If Only!
by Aussie73
Summary: After the encounter with Replicator Carter, Sam and Jack's relationship begins to change.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: Set in an AU where Janet is still alive._

* * *

**Part One**

The present

Paint? Check.

Dust covers down? Check.

Paint brushes and rollers? Check, check.

Ancient jeans and ratty sweatshirt? All check.

Oddball friends? Check.

"Hi-ho, the gang's all here," I mumbled as two of the most important people in my life made themselves comfortable on my settee. They'd shown up ten minutes ago with beer, soda and snacks, showing every intention of sticking around.

Even my declared intention of redecorating the whole house hadn't stirred them. But, then again, did I really want to do this alone when I had two seemingly willing slaves? No way was Doctor Colonel Carter that dumb!

The door opened. "Lucy; I'm home!" said a familiar voice.

My eyes closed and I took a sip of soda to hide the stupid smile that had appeared on my face.

Sexy USAF General? Check.

Perhaps I should explain ...

* * *

Three weeks ago

"There are two of us."

"If only!" came the quip from behind me. I turned to look at the source - one Brigadier General Jack O'Neill - and he cleared his throat before offering me an abashed grin.

I swung back to the visual from the MALP's white light sensors, trying to ignore the self-conscious flutter in my stomach. My CO was a handsome, charismatic man, but I thought I'd set to rest my feelings for him a long time ago.

But occasionally something would remind me of the attraction I felt for him. He'd recently taken to wearing his sleeves pushed up, showing off his tanned, muscular forearms. He didn't have Teal'c's body-builder frame or Daniel's solid muscle, but was possessed of a hard rangy elegance that was ... well, it was sexy. Admit it, Sam!

I breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the woodsy - vaguely spicy - scent of his aftershave, and began speaking to the other 'me'. She was a Replicator, having been created in my image by Fifth, but had run away from him.

And now she wished to be destroyed - by the Ancient weapon the General had devised. I arranged to meet with her at the Alpha Site.

* * *

Four days later

I shut down my laptop on which I'd been trying to compose my mission report. How to say "Total screw-up by one gullible Air Force Colonel" in a military way ...

Repli-Carter had been on the run from Fifth, but she hadn't feared him. She'd tricked us into creating a cipher that would render her immune to our weapon, and had used this to destroy Fifth. Now she'd taken control of the Replicators and seemed intent on carving up this galaxy.

God; what have I done?

I closed my eyes against the stupid tears, then took a gulp of my now cold coffee.

"Carter!" came a familiar bark.

My CO strolled in, arms folded across his chest and hair all on end as usual. I smiled slightly; for a man pushing fifty, he could look amazingly boyish at times. "Sir?" I said.

"Ya know; I could swear I'd kicked you outta here two hours ago."

"Yes, sir," I replied. "I just wanted to finish the mission report."

"Tomorrow, Carter," he interrupted. "Get off this base for a few." He gave me a cheeky grin. "I _could_ make that an order."

"No need, sir," I said. "I'll go." The image of Repli-Carter killing the General flashed into my mind and I shuddered. Yes, she'd hesitated due to my - our - unresolved feelings, but had done it anyway. Which brought to mind a disturbing question - if she was modeled on me, could I gun down a man in cold blood?

His eyes softened suddenly. "Carter; quit beating yourself up over this," he said. "She's not you."

"She was made in my image, sir," I said. "She learned about betrayal from Fifth, who learned it from me."

"A-ah!" He held up a long-boned hand. "I gave the order, remember?" he said. "You know we had to leave him on Hala."

"But I was the one who tricked him, sir," I said.

"Hey, he was flawed," the General said. "Anything he created was bound to be just as flawed."

He really could be sweet at times. Then at other times he was hard and frightening - like when he'd closed the iris against the Eurondan Alar years ago. I gave him a small smile. "Thanks, sir," I said, appreciating the attempt at comfort.

General O'Neill was lousy with words, but he was by no means as stupid as he pretended. You didn't get a star by being dumb, and it drove me nuts when he feigned ignorance.

He wasn't a scientist like me, or a linguist like Daniel - doctors, both - but he _was_ brilliant. He had a slightly offbeat style of leadership, but commanded great respect from the lowliest Airman right up to President Hayes.

"Welcome," he said. "C'mere." He tugged on my shoulder and pulled me into a big comforting hug.

I sighed and allowed myself this rare contact. The General had a knack for hugging me just right, and the thought occurred that he'd probably been a great dad. I'd witnessed him with Skaara, Cassandra, Reetou Charlie, Merrin and Rya'c - they'd all loved him.

I just hoped he'd get a chance to be a dad again - my heart ached for his loss. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and gave myself permission to enjoy his warm body ... if only for a brief time.

The hug didn't last long - we were both all too aware of the fact that we were on the base, the frat regs and ... oh yes, I was engaged to another man. A good, kind man who loved me and whom I loved in return.

Right?

The General - I didn't allow myself to think of him as Jack - pulled back first. "Well, you'd better go, Carter," he said, giving me a grin. "Don't want Pete to forget what you look like."

"He's got a case in Denver, sir," I said, not sure why I was telling him this.

"Ah." He bounced lightly on his toes. "Well, have a good night - whatever you end up doing. Me; I've got a new Simpsons DVD to watch."

"The wild life, huh, sir?" I teased lightly.

He shook his head with a grin. "Gettin' too old for the wild life, Carter," he said. "Well ... better go. Big important General stuff to do, ya know." He rolled his eyes. "What's your position on the color scheme for the conference room?" he asked suddenly.

"Uhh ... I don't care?" I offered.

"_Thank_ you!" he exclaimed dramatically.

"Good night, sir," I said with a small laugh.

"Night, Carter."

* * *

I dreamed of him that night - for the first time in a long time. I won't go into details, but let's just say it featured blue Jell-O and one very naked, very energetic USAF General. 

I breathed in deeply, trying to slow my heart rate. I hadn't had one of _those_ dreams about him for a long time - since my experience on the Prometheus in fact. I'd made the conscious decision to let him go, and had allowed Mark to set me up with Pete.

I couldn't seem to let go entirely, though. When he'd taken the Ancient download last year, I'd gone to his house to tell him how I felt, but had been interrupted by Teal'c and Daniel.

Then I'd tried on the way to Praclarush Taonas, but he'd cut me off, stating simply that he knew. Finally, we'd managed to defeat Anubis, but the effects of the download had taken a nearly fatal toll on him.

I'd touched his face, pleading with him. "Jack, please," I'd whispered painfully. I would have done anything if he'd responded.

Instead he'd muttered "Dormata" - sleep. We put him into stasis, and I allowed myself to grieve for my lost love; a love that was unspoken but no less real.

It was oh six hundred now. I growled and swung my legs out of bed, knowing I had no chance of getting any sleep now. My R-rated dream pounded in the back of my mind. I dressed rapidly in sweats and sneakers - a long hard run would work for me right now.

I shut my door behind me, wincing inwardly at the crashing noise in the quiet street, then headed off in a steady ground-eating jog toward the nearby park. I did love a good run - there was nothing like beating feet for shaking off the fidgets.

"Incoming!" someone shouted. I looked up and saw two pre-teen boys skating quickly toward me. "Can't stop!" one of them hollered.

I skipped quickly out of the way - God bless my military-enhanced reflexes! - before I was mown down. "Hey, sorry, Carter!" someone else called, emerging from behind a large tree and skating over to me.

"General!" I said, astonished. Since when did he skate?

"Hey," he said, his face flushed and sweating and his hair all on end. He wore grungy yet nice-fitting jeans and an old gray USAF tee shirt that clung to his form. He looked ... sexy as hell and thoughts of blue Jell-O filled my mind once more. "Better grab 'em," he added, setting off quickly. "God; I'm getting too old for this," I clearly heard him mumble.

"I came for a run, sir," I said. "I'll grab one; you get the other." I ran alongside him, enjoying the bizarre moment in a life that epitomized bizarre. We caught up to the young boys, and the General grabbed one, flinging him over his shoulder, while I caught the other's arms.

"Hey," my captive said, raising his eyebrows in an unmistakable Jack O'Neill waggle - just how much time had he spent with my CO?

"Hey," I said.

"You Jack's girlfriend?"

I blushed and was immediately annoyed at myself. "No; he's a friend," I told the young boy. "We work together at Cheyenne Mountain."

"Oh, right. Deep space ... whatever," the boy dismissed with an eye roll.

"So, sir, when did you take up roller-blading?" I asked as he released his own captive with a friendly thump to the shoulder.

"I've always been able to skate, Carter," he said. "Used to play a lot of street hockey and when those two found out ... they're too big for the pee-wee leagues and too young for the juniors ...". He gave me a sheepish grin, then shrugged as if him giving up hours out of his precious free time was inconsequential.

I couldn't help myself. "That's actually pretty sweet, sir," I commented. And here it comes, folks ...

"Ah, fer cryin' out loud, Carter!" he grumbled on cue. "Ya _tryin'_ to make me blush?"

_Like that would be such a challenge_, I mused but didn't say. For all his cocky attitude, I'd learned that Jack O'Neill could be quite bashful in some ways. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir," I told him now, suppressing my grin.

He smirked. "That isn't back chat, is it, Colonel?" he taunted. He sat down on a nearby bench and leaned down to massage his leg. His experience three years ago in Baal's fortress had healed his chronic bad knee, so I figured he'd probably just skated too hard.

"No, sir," I said, sitting down next to him, enjoying the rare opportunity to just sit and chew the fat with him. Although he, Daniel and Teal'c had become like family in some ways, we didn't hang out that much. The last time had been just after he'd taken the Ancient download and we'd spent some time in his house debating the parallels between The Simpsons and the Goa'uld. The then-Colonel had _so_ not been in a serious conversation mood.

"Good." He stretched out his long legs and tilted his head back with a deep sigh. "Geez; I really _am_ getting too old for this."

"Crap," I said bluntly.

His head shot up and he eyed me with another smirk. "Carter?"

"Uh ... sorry, sir," I said. "But you know the old adage - you're only as old as you feel."

"Then I'm about three hundred," he said with a rare wide smile. He had a nice smile, and it was a shame we didn't get to see it very often. We usually got sarcastic quirks or a smirk. But a full 1000-watt Jack O'Neill smile was something to see. I think the last time he'd smiled like that was when I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. He'd worn a broad proud smile that day - more proud of me than of himself.

"Come off it, sir!" I gave an inelegant snort and took the bull by the horns. I might regret it later, but now I was a little punchy from lack of sleep and the rather hot dream. "You're not old."

He eyed me thoughtfully. "Carter; I'm fifty in a couple years," he said. "That might not be so old in years, but I've put my body through thirty-odd years of punishing physical abuse. If I hadn't made General, I would've had to come out of the field within the year anyway."

And that hurt, I realized. For a man who prided himself on his physical fitness, he probably felt like time had betrayed him. "Are you ... thinking about retirement, sir?"

He shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "I accepted this position for one year - with the option of renegotiating at the end of that time. I've only got a few months left till the year's up."

I couldn't believe it. Jack O'Neill leave the Air Force? Although he had done it before. But that was after the first Abydos mission, when he'd been grieving badly for Charlie. The SGC - and his bond with Daniel, Teal'c and myself - had saved this man from spiraling downward, had given him a renewed joie de vivre. "J ... sir; you've still got a lot to offer the SGC," I told him. "I know you hate the paperwork, but you're still the best man for the job."

He snorted in amusement. "That does _not_ speak well for the other Colonels and Generals of this great nation, Carter," he said.

I closed my eyes. The man would never realize how important he was - what a difference he'd made. And, in a way, that was a good thing. There was little ego about him, and there was so much there to give him an ego. The alarm on my Air Force issue watch beeped. "Crap!" I blurted out, jolting to my feet. "I'd better go, sir. Mission briefing at oh eight hundred hours."

He stood up and fixed his skate. "Surely your CO will understand you being late?" he said.

"Maybe, but he can be a real bear at times," I said cheekily. "See you at the ranch, General?" Oh yeah, I'd spent _way_ too much time with Jack O'Neill.

* * *

Several days later

"Just ... focus your mind."

I chuckled to myself as I recalled our mission to rescue Maybourne - aka King Arkhan the First - from a former Goa'uld stronghold. We'd found an Ancient vessel and had needed an Ancient or someone with the Ancient gene to power it up. And that was where the General came in.

It had been the first time he'd gone off-world in the months since his promotion, and he'd been like a kid in a candy store. Baseball cap firmly in place, shades covering his eyes, P90 clutched lovingly to his chest, he'd been in hog heaven.

And the hard muscled arms displayed by the black Air Force issue tee shirt ... mmm. _No; don't go there, Sam!_, I chided myself hastily. Since our impromptu meeting in the park, I'd had several more R-rated dreams starring Brigadier General Jack O'Neill. Why now, dammit?

The 'focus your mind' comment had earned Daniel the _look_ from the General and I ducked my head to hide a grin. Although the General could display amazing powers of concentration when necessary, most of the time his nervous energy could power a Goa'uld mothership for a year. He was like the Energizer Bunny - just wind him up and watch him go bouncing off the walls. Even when sitting.

He was rarely still - constantly fiddling with pens, paperclips, anything that came to hand - and I'd learned to block it out over the years. The first few briefings I'd attended with my CO had been an ... experience. In one particular briefing, he'd started making paper balls out of his notepad. I'd fully expected him to start juggling them and had given him a meaningful stare before General Hammond could notice him. As his 2IC and a junior officer, I couldn't glare at him or stomp on his foot, but he'd gotten the meaning of my stare quickly enough. We'd only known each other a couple weeks at that point, but he'd learned rapidly how to read me. Nowhere near as dumb as he acted.

I massaged the tiredness out of my eyes. Dealing with Maybourne had worn me out, and I still couldn't understand how the General had stood being stranded with him for a month without killing him. Yet the former NID operative had come through for us on a few occasions, thereby earning the General's grudging respect, if not trust. Jack O'Neill had never trusted easily, and the NID and the Trust had screwed us one too many times.

Time to go home. I closed my laptop and headed out of the mountain that had occupied my life for more than seven years. _God, Sam; you need a life, girl!_, I thought as I got on my bike and set off home.

* * *

Several days later

Pain. Ow. I blinked and stared at the source of the pain. He glared back at me. "You and your precious General again?" he sneered. "Geez, Sam; need I remind you that you're marrying _me_, not him?"

I shook my head. "I'm not marrying you, Pete," I said. "Pack your things; I want you gone." After what I'd gone through with Jonas, I was _damned_ if I was going to let Pete get away with hitting me - even once.

"Sam?" His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Sam - you ... I got mad. We can still make it work."

I shook my head again. "No," I replied. "We could have before you hit me. You were lucky there - you caught me unguarded. Try to lay a hand on me again, and I'll hurt you."

I could do it too. I was a Lieutenant Colonel in the US Air Force and had spent seven years in the field with a former Special Ops soldier as my CO. I'd learned a lot about defense and offense from said Special Ops soldier - some of which had frightened me. Jack O'Neill was a trained killer, maybe even an assassin - who knows what he did during his murky days in Black Ops?

I turned away from him and grabbed my coat. "I'm going," I said. "When I come back, you'll either be gone or I'll throw your ass out myself."

"Sam?" He grabbed my arm.

I swung round and dropped him easily. He fell to the floor, gasping and wheezing. "_Never_ lay your hands on me again," I said, then strode out of the house.

I pulled on my coat as the chill night air mussed my hair. My cheekbone was aching, but it was nothing compared to the ache of self-recrimination. Had I been so desperate for a 'normal' life that I'd blinded myself to Pete's character? For crying out loud, he'd tailed me when we'd only been together a couple of weeks and had nearly blown the op to save Daniel from Osiris. It was only pure luck that had stopped things from going to hell in a hand-basket.

But he could be so sweet and charming. He did things on impulse, like taking me to dances - a far cry from the rules and regulations that governed my working life. I'd enjoyed flexing my femininity and the romance. And we'd been good together - most of the time. But now ... now it was over.

Rain spattered down and I zipped up my coat, plunged my hands into my pockets and carried on walking.

* * *

Cold. I was so cold. I blinked and sat up unsteadily, wondering why my face was throbbing. My vision swam and I realized that I was lying under a tree. 

I got up, ignoring the curious stare of a passing dog, and braced myself against the tree as a dizzy spell hit me. Cold. Was I ever going to feel warm again?

I remembered General O'Neill holding me in a brief comforting hug. He was warm. He could make me warm again. Had to find the General.

I made my way to his house, slogging through the puddles and shivering as another wave of cold rushed through my bones. Jack ... Jack would make me warm. I knocked on his door. "Jack ...," I muttered. God; what if he wasn't home? How would I get warm?

I knocked again.

And again.

"Ah, fer cryin' out loud!" I heard him grumble. "Hold your bladder!" The door swung open. "Carter?"

"C-cold," I got out through my chattering teeth.

"Get your butt in here, Carter," he said. I just looked at him. Black tee shirt, gray sweats, hair sticking up all over the place and creases on his face from hugging his pillow - he was the most adorable thing in the world right now. "Carter!" he barked. "In here - now."

I followed him into his house. "C-cold," I jerked out again.

"Yeah; that happens when you're soaked to the skin," he shot back. Then his hand shot out, pulling me closer to him. "What happened to you?" he added.

"Huh?" I was fogged.

He brushed a gentle hand against my cheekbone, and I turned my face gratefully into the warmth he offered. Then I flinched. "Ow," I muttered.

"Okay; questions can wait," he said. He took my coat off, settled me gently on his settee, then headed quickly up the stairs, returning with a large towel, a robe and a blanket. "Let's get you warmed up."

"Warm ...," I said longingly and inched closer to him, wrapping my icy hands around his forearm.

"Damn, woman - you're frozen," he mumbled. "Carter; I'm gonna fix you some soup. Dry off and wrap up."

He thrust the towel and robe into my hands and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me staring vaguely into the fireplace. My body shook with the chills and I couldn't seem to get my limbs to move. The firelight was so pretty ...

"Carter!"

I winced. "Don't scream, sir," I protested.

"Carter! Get out of those wet clothes or - so help me - I'll do it for you!"

My eyes widened. He wouldn't dare ... would he? "Sir?"

Never play poker with Jack O'Neill. He gave me a bland look. "What the hell," he said. "At least I'd die a happy man." His hands went to my sodden blouse and began to tug at it.

I slapped at the naughty, yet warm, hands. "I can do it, sir!" I said, going bright pink. Finally, I was warm!

"Better," he muttered, flushing slightly also. "Go and take a shower, get warm, then I'll run you home. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," I replied.

I stepped out of the shower and rubbed myself briskly dry before pulling on the robe the General had lent me. I was feeling closer to human now and was embarrassed at the way I'd just turned up on his doorstep in the middle of the night. I would've gone home right now, but the General had offered to wash and dry my clothes while I warmed up.

I clutched the robe tightly to me, well aware of the fact that it swamped me. The General liked his clothes baggy anyway, and when you factored in the six inch height difference ...

"Carter!" he yelled.

I winced, glad that he lived in a detached house. "Sir?" I replied.

"Come get some soup," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said and made my way to the kitchen. His kitchen was very neat, but tended to be let down by his fridge. Things grew in there - alien life-forms. I could recognize a reformed slob - I was one too. "Sir; I ... uh ... wanted to apologize for showing up like this."

"Carter," he interrupted. "What happened to your face?"

I brought a hand up to my aching face, realizing it must look pretty ugly. "It looks worse than it actually is, sir," I said. It _did_ hurt, but not as much as the fact that someone I'd loved and trusted had done it to me.

"A-ah! That's not what I asked," he said. "Hell, I've seen you lookin' a helluva lot worse!"

_Not one for flattery, are you, Jack O'Neill?_, I mused wryly. I flushed and looked down into the bowl of steaming soup. "I ... I broke up with Pete," I admitted.

"_He_ did that to you?" The General muttered an oath in what sounded like Arabic - shades of his Black Ops days, no doubt. "So, you left him?"

I smiled slightly. "Not before punching his lights out, sir," I replied.

He smirked. "Good on ya, Carter," he said approvingly. "Drink your soup," he added.

I took a cautious sip, pleasantly surprised to find that it was delicious. "It's good," I offered, taking a larger spoonful and feeling the warmth seep into my bones.

"Then quit yakking and drink up," the General ordered gruffly.

* * *

"You don't have to, sir," I protested as the General pushed open my front door and shouldered his way in. "This isn't some lame movie of the week - I'm not a battered girlfriend." 

"Humor an old man, Carter," the General said, fingering his nine-mil lovingly.

I smiled slightly and followed him in and up the stairs, my gaze drawn almost of its own volition to his rear. It was a nice rear - firm, well muscled. Looked squeezable. I coughed slightly and went red. I couldn't even blame hallucinations or weird alien viruses this time - I wanted Brigadier General Jack O'Neill.

"No-one's home, Carter!" he called.

"Yes, sir," I said and went into my bedroom with a yawn.

"Huh; never figured you for pink, Carter!" he teased.

I shook my head. "Cassandra's choice," I said, regarding the very feminine bedroom with a new awareness that I hadn't felt around Pete. "She was about seventeen and going through a girlie phase - I didn't have the heart to say no." I shrugged my shoulders. "I've got some down time next week - I was ... Pete and I were going to redecorate then."

"Ah." The General stuffed his fists into his pockets. "Well ... hit the sack, Carter," he ordered as I gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "I'll lock up after myself."

I yawned again. "Thanks, sir," I muttered sleepily.

"Night ... Sam," he said and left swiftly.

_Sam?_

* * *

The present

"Sir?" I queried.

He shrugged his shoulders, not needing to hear the rest of the implied question. "The work'll go quicker if there's four of us," he said. "Besides, if it was up to these two, you'd have nothing but chips and pretzels for lunch."

"Daniel Jackson brought cake, O'Neill," Teal'c said with a small smile.

"Cake? Sweeeeet." O'Neill clasped his hands to his heart in a choirboy expression that sat ill with the rumpled hair and devilish gleam in his brown eyes. "Daniel; I take it all back."

He was wearing dark blue jeans and a paint-spattered black tee shirt - he was clearly prepared for a messy day. I sighed. "You win, sir," I said.

"Excellent!" He clapped his hands together. "Well, first off ...".

"A-ah!" I cut him off abruptly with his own impatient exclamation. "This is my house, sir; I give the orders." I paused suddenly as I realized just how like Jack O'Neill I'd sounded there. There was already a second Jack O'Neill in the world, thanks to Loki and his cloning experiments - the world couldn't cope with a third one. And, besides, the idea of being a female Jack O'Neill was truly horrifying.

He looked at me and waggled his eyebrows. "Easy, there," he muttered. Then he stretched hugely, causing his tee shirt to ride up. That gave me an intriguing glimpse of a flat tanned abdomen, and I looked away quickly before my mind slipped into the gutter it seemed to inhabit lately around this man.

"Where would you like us to begin, Colonel Carter?" Teal'c inquired. He'd gotten his own place off base recently, and had become quite good at picking out just the right things for the apartment. Who knew that a bargain hunter hid beneath the warrior heart?

"Bathroom," I decided.

"And will Pete Shanahan be helping with this redecoration?" he added.

"We ... uh ... we broke up last week," I admitted.

Daniel's eyes narrowed and he touched his hand gently to my bruised cheekbone. "This happened last week," he said.

Teal'c reached the same conclusion - never could hide anything from him. "Pete Shanahan hurt you," he added.

"Guys; it's okay," I said with a smile, amused at, yet touched by, their concern. "It's over; he's gone. And if he shows up again, I'll kick his ass."

"As will I, Colonel Carter," Teal'c offered. "On Chulak, if a man lays hands on his woman in violence, she is entitled to castrate him with a blunt knife."

The General winced and crossed his long legs. "_Way_ too much information there, T!" he complained.

* * *

I put my hands to my lower back and stretched with a grimace. Although I was very fit, my muscles were unaccustomed to the particular stretching and bending necessary for painting. "Guys; let's take a break, huh?" I said. 

The General rolled his eyes. "Finally!" he said. "Who knew you were such a slave driver, Carter?"

"Uh ... we did," Daniel said, pointing to himself and Teal'c. "You should see her in the field!"

I glared at him and he gave me his best innocent blue-eyed stare in return. "Kidding," he said hurriedly. "Ya know we love you, right?"

No more beer for Daniel, I mused, taking the empty Guinness bottle from him. "Pizza?" I suggested, driving my slaves out of the newly decorated bathroom.

I couldn't believe we'd managed to entirely strip and redecorate my whole bathroom in just three hours - talk about teamwork! The previously bland bathroom was now decorated in a subtle blue, with accents in cream and banana. Teal'c had moved some of my things into more logical locations whilst giving stern advice about not confusing color schemes. Daniel had grouted and painted. And the General had willingly re-tiled my shower and sink areas.

The man himself got smoothly to his feet. It was a good thing Baal had healed his crappy knee - we'd've been hearing some choice language from him by now otherwise. "Sir; you want to do the honors?" I said, passing him a leaflet from a local pizza house.

"Carter; we're on down time," he said. "The name's Jack."

I blinked. Last names and ranks weren't obligatory outside work, but I'd made such a determined effort not to think of him as Jack that it was hard to do so now. "Yes, sir," I said, "but my name's Sam; not Carter."

"Sam," he repeated softly. "I can do that."

I blinked again - how the hell did he make my boyish name sound sexy?

"Gimme that leaflet," he added, one hand making its way under his tee shirt and rubbing at his stomach. "Gonna starve to death," he muttered. He pulled out his cellphone - one of the latest ones, I noted with amusement. Boys and their toys - and hit the speed dial. "What?" he asked when Daniel chuckled.

"Nothing," Daniel said, giving his patented _Who, me?_ expression.

The General had known him too long, though. "The cell was provided by the SGC," he said. "You know me and technology."

There he went with the dumb act again. The guy who could master almost any type of weaponry - alien or Earth-based - and could fly anything claiming not to know how to use a cellphone. I didn't buy it.

Daniel wasn't buying his dumb act either. "So ... what? You _got_ someone to show you how to set up a speed dial?" he taunted quietly.

The General smirked. "Got me there," he admitted. "Speed dial is one of the few blessings of the 21st century." He placed the call to the pizza parlor.

Twenty minutes later, the pizzas (plus) had arrived. Knowing the way we could chow down pizza, the General ... Jack ... had ordered four. I watched Jack tear into his pizza with a small smile.

He looked over at me. "What?" he mumbled, mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

"Nothing," I replied. I still didn't know just why I enjoyed watching him eat. Maybe it was the way he dove into things so enthusiastically - like helping a Lieutenant Colonel decorate her house.

"Uh-huh," he said skeptically. "Then quit eyeballing me."

"Yes, sir," I said with a smirk. Did I ever smirk before meeting Jack O'Neill? I didn't think so, but couldn't be sure.

"Damn insubordinate subordinates," he said, flashing me a grin.

"Perhaps now you have more empathy with General Hammond, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

I'd been in the middle of sipping my soda when that comment emerged. I laughed, choked and the soda came out of my nose. _Score one for the big guy!_, I mused, grabbing a Kleenex.

* * *

It was now 1400 hours and the sun was at its zenith, baking us as we toiled in the living room. I swiped my arm over my sweating face and thought longingly of the beer that currently resided in my fridge. "Guys; I'm getting a drink," I said. "You want?" 

I received three grunts of assent from my slaves and headed into the kitchen. I opened the door to the fridge, took out three beers and a soda, then rested my head against one of the beer bottles, enjoying the coldness.

"Carter!" Jack hollered, seeming to forget the first name agreement. "What's a guy have to do to get a drink round here?"

Whoops. I closed the fridge door and went back into the living room. "Sorry, sir," I said, then skidded to a halt.

Damn! Now, _there_ was a sight! My three slaves had taken off their tee shirts, revealing three very different but very nice bodies. If I wasn't their friend, I might have found this quite a show. Oh, hell; it was one _hell_ of a show! I had to admit that much.

My gaze was drawn helplessly to the General. Although he didn't have to satisfy the same fitness requirements as when he was in the field, he worked out rigorously every chance he got - to work off some of the frustrations of his desk job. And damn, was he ever fit.

Broad shoulders, firm chest with an intriguing smattering of gray hair, flat stomach, lean hips. I'd seen him in a similar state of dishabille before but now ... Had any man ever affected me like this with just a bare torso?

"Beer," the General exclaimed, snatching one of the bottles from my hand and draining half of it in several long gulps.

"Uh ...". I shook my head to clear it of the inappropriate thoughts and handed a beer and a soda to Daniel and Teal'c respectively. I opened my own beer and took a grateful swallow of the ice-cold liquid.

Daniel sneezed and wrinkled his nose. "I gotta get out of here for a bit," he said apologetically. "Fumes, you know."

"The garden," I suggested. It was a gorgeous day, and I felt guilty that the guys - _my_ guys - were giving it up to toil in my house.

"Nice!" the General said. He headed straight for my little garden and appropriated the bench, casting his long form down and closing his eyes.

"This is indeed restful," Teal'c said, sounding pleased. He sank gracefully onto the grass and crossed his legs, adopting his old kelno'reem position.

We sat quietly in the sun, drinking and enjoying the little breeze that cooled us off.

"This is very agreeable," Teal'c said suddenly. "Why do we not do this more often?"

"Dunno, T," Jack muttered sleepily. "Probably trying to get a life outside the SGC."

I snorted and took a deep gulp of my beer. "Yeah; my attempt at getting a life worked out really well," I said scornfully.

"Hey!" Jack sat up and regarded me with a piercing stare. "You were happy for a while, weren't you?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Yes," I admitted.

"Then remember that," he advised. "It'll help you when things get rough."

A shadow fell over his brown eyes and I recalled just how much this man had lost. "Does that work for you, sir?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes," he said, his hand tightening around the bottle. "And quit callin' me sir," he grumbled.

"Sorry; force of habit," I said.

* * *

The day drew to a close, and we began packing up the equipment. "Well, guys," I said with a huge stretch, "I believe I owe you dinner. You've done such a great job!" 

"Dinner?" The General's eyes lit up. "And cake?"

I shook my head in disbelief. The man had inhaled an entire apple pie at lunch time and now he wanted more? How the hell did he stay so trim? "And cake," I said. "But not for me; some of us have to watch our shape, you know!"

He chuckled. "I don't mind watching your shape, Sam," he teased, then his face fell. "Sorry, Carter," he added quickly.

"It's okay," I said. I'd missed this. We'd turned off the flirting for a long time after the Zatarc fiasco, barely talking except in a professional context. Things had changed after Janet had nearly died last year. I'd been distraught at both that and the fact that I'd nearly lost the Colonel, too. Things had started to get back to normal, then my relationship with Pete had turned serious.

The flirting had definitely ended after he'd asked me to marry him. But now ... now it was back. I chuckled. "I don't mind watching _your_ shape either ... Jack," I said.

"What; this old wreck?" he said with a grin.

"Uh ... guys?" Daniel said plaintively. "Sam; you said something about a meal?"

Right. I blushed slightly and turned to my friends. "Go home and change into something spectacular. Only the best for my three super decorators!"

* * *

I tugged at the red dress that hugged my figure a little more closely than I recalled, especially the small curve of my stomach that I couldn't eradicate no matter how many crunches I did. I put a necklace on, then examined myself closely, wishing for a little more cleavage. I'd always been small, which was a good thing in a female soldier, but sometimes I would've liked my curves to be a bit fuller. 

Then again ... a handsome, sexy Brigadier General had admitted to enjoying watching my shape. I smiled and sprayed on some perfume, then checked my watch. 1900. Time to leave - I was meeting the guys at Alessandro's at 1930.

I'd invited Janet but she'd cried off, pleading tiredness. Although it had been over a year ago, she still tired easily and had yet to come back to the SGC full time.

I left the house and got into my vintage Volvo. I turned the key in the ignition and released the clutch slowly. I got nothing for my trouble but a whine. "Oh, come on!" I muttered and tried again. Another painful whine. "Crap!"

I pulled out my cellphone and hit the speed dial. The phone rang several times. "What?" my CO barked, sounding pissed.

"Sir?"

He exhaled heavily. "Sorry; thought you were another damn telemarketer," he complained. "What's up, Sam?"

"I just wanted to let you know; I might be a bit late," I said. "My car's just died. I'll call a cab and get there as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about it, Sam," he said. "My own cab's due soon; we'll pick you up in ten."

"Okay," I replied.

"See ya."

I ended the call, then got back out of my now-dead car. Oh God, the General was collecting me from my house! That was ... quite date-like. _No; don't start over-thinking this, Sam!_, I warned myself. That way lay madness. He was my CO and my friend - that was all.

* * *

_If you want more - or want to offer **constructive** criticism - you know what to do! Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for the reviews!_

_squirtbug158 - yes; **very **nice image (hee-hee). They **are** gorgeous, aren't they?_

_Linguna - lustknaben. Would that mean 'drool-worthy', perchance?_

_SeedC - You never know ... keep reading and find out._

_Wildhorses - I know - I realized my mistake **after** posting (always the way!)_

_For you four, and for Warpchick and Ascifigirl, find below Part Two._

* * *

**Part Two**

My CO and my friend. Standing at my door, dressed entirely in black and letting the evening sun do spectacular things for his hair.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _God, Sam; you're screwed_, I thought. _No man should look that good in a leather jacket._ Sometimes his taste in clothes was pretty outlandish, favoring giant sweatshirts in bright colors and jeans that were usually two sizes too big. But he certainly knew how to wear leather jackets. I recalled fondly the biker type he'd worn during our trip to 1969 - Jimmy Dean had had nothing on the Colonel for raw sex appeal.

"You scrub up pretty nice, sir," I said, following him into the cab and pulling my hem back down over my knees as I sat.

He cleared his throat. "You too, Carter," he replied. He shifted his long legs. "So, maybe now you'll finally listen to me and get rid of that old heap!"

I snorted, feeling more comfortable at the resumption of our usual banter. "That 'old heap' is a '65 original ... sir," I told him.

"Ah." He smiled faintly. "Good year, huh?"

"A little before my time, sir."

He winced. "Damn, Carter; quit makin' me feel old," he complained with a smirk.

He wasn't a young man anymore, but he had the strength and vitality of a much younger man. "You're not old ... Jack," I dared to say softly.

He put a hand to my knee, sending an odd tingle rushing through me. "Better," he teased, then cleared his throat and moved his hand back to his side.

I cleared my own throat, feeling the sexual tension practically vibrate through the confines of the cab. Why _him_, for God's sake? The one man I wasn't allowed to have, and he was the one I wanted? Was he a 'safe bet' - the one I used as an excuse not to risk the potential hurt of a real relationship? Or were we meant for each other, as several encounters with alternate realities seemed to indicate?

I had deep feelings for the man, but I had no idea whether he still felt the same way as a few years ago. I'd tried to move on, and he'd likely done the same. He was an attractive, sexy, vital man who had no shortage of women interested in him - he just never seemed to notice it.

Besides, I wasn't sure I bought into the whole 'soul mates' thing. There were things about him that irritated the hell out of me. Whilst his clever acid tongue could be amusing when it wasn't being directed at me, his propensity for using it to piss off whatever Goa'uld captured us had always made things worse for us. He could be tactless, ruthless and a real SOB. But at other times, he was gentle, self-effacing and quite shy.

_Will the real Jack O'Neill please stand up?_, I thought in exasperation.**

* * *

**

We walked into the restaurant and looked around for Daniel and Teal'c. "O'Neill, Colonel Carter," Teal'c said, standing up.

Several women looked over at him and he bowed minimally to one who was staring more blatantly before drawing out a chair for me. "Good evening," he said with a warm smile. "You look very nice, Colonel Carter."

I smiled at him. "Thank you," I said, "but please ... call me by my name."

He looked startled, then dipped his head. "Of course ... Samantha." It was odd hearing my full name, but it sounded _right_ coming from this formal man.

"Hey, Sam." Daniel gave me a bright smile. "You look great." He looked around. "Janet couldn't make it?"

"She said she was too tired," I told him, wondering if he was interested in the petite redhead. They'd flirted for a while after his return, but things had definitely cooled after she'd nearly died.

"T, Daniel, Carter; usual drinks?" the General said, stuffing his fists into his pockets and drawing the fabric tighter against his rear. Nice rear.

We nodded an affirmative and he strolled over to the bar, aiming _that_ smile at the waitress. The smile that made unsuspecting young female personnel have distinctly impure thoughts about their commanding officer's body and sexual prowess.

The women of the SGC had always speculated about the guys on my team. It was to be expected. They were three very attractive men, and were all unattached. I chuckled to myself as I remembered a conversation I'd had a few years ago ...

* * *

Flashback - Seven years ago

"Hey, Carter! Whatcha doin'?"

I started, then looked up from my computer as Colonel O'Neill leaned against the door way, his arms folded across his chest and his brown hair sticking up at all angles. "Just catching up on some journals, sir," I said.

He strolled in. "Y'know, Carter; I always thought that when you were given leave, you actually _left_," he said pointedly.

I smiled at the less than subtle dig - he'd been nagging me for a while to get a life. "You're still here, sir," I pointed out.

"Not for long." He stretched and indicated his civvies. "Goin' to a hockey game."

"Excuse me, sir," Corporal Winters said timidly, sidling around my CO. "Major; would you be able to come down to Lab Three? Doctor Lee needs your help."

"Of course, Corporal," I replied, disconnecting from the Net and closing my laptop.

"Marine," the Colonel said, "is it urgent? Because the Captain is supposed to be on down time."

The young Marine blushed. "I'm afraid so, sir," she said, her eyes skittering over his long lean frame.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Go, Carter, but if I find out you've pulled another all-nighter ...".

"I won't," I said, touched by his concern. He played the hard-assed CO very well, but I knew he cared deeply about his team. He couldn't inspire the kind of loyalty he did by being a hard-nose. For God's sake, Ferretti and Kawalsky had lied for over a year about the outcome of the original Abydos mission and had risked court martial to protect him!

He waggled his eyebrows. "See that you don't," he said gruffly, then gave me a smirk. "Anyway; me for hockey! Night, Carter."

"Good night, sir."

"Night, Marine," he added and strolled away.

After the Colonel had left, I followed Corporal Winters down the corridor. "He's ... actually a nice guy, isn't he?" she said.

"He can be," I said, "and he's an excellent commanding officer."

She blushed again. "Do you ... know if he's seeing anyone?"

I was surprised. Not at the idea that my CO could be dating, but that the idea gave me a small - highly inappropriate - flare of jealousy. Yes; he was an attractive man, but he was a lot older than the Corporal - who'd been assigned here straight out of basic. "Corporal; do you have feelings for Colonel O'Neill?" I asked gently. They weren't in the same chain of command, so the frat regs weren't a problem, but the vast differences in their age and their rank could lead to nasty rumors about both of them.

"I ... think so," the younger woman said. "I've been ...". She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Captain," she suddenly added. "This isn't an appropriate conversation."

I drew the blushing young woman into an empty office. "Forget ranks for the moment, Corporal," I said. "Your feelings for the Colonel - are they a problem?"

She sighed. "They could be," she admitted, "but he doesn't seem to see me as anything other than an anonymous Marine."

I remembered being her age and having a crush on one of my older - married - professors. It had sucked. "You know, Corporal; you're a very pretty girl," I told her. "You should get out a bit more; maybe meet someone you can have a real relationship with." I felt like a hypocrite almost instantly; my last relationship had ended badly several years ago, and only ten minutes ago my CO was nagging me to get a life.

She looked at me with wide eyes. "I'm not very good at the whole relationship thing," she said, "but for the Colonel ...". She gave a blissful sigh, then chuckled suddenly. "Those eyes and his hands. Have you ever gotten a good look at his hands, Captain?"

Of course I had. We'd fought together many times, and damn near died together too in Antarctica only a couple months ago. His hands _were_ fascinating. Long and slender, with curved thumbs that gave him great dexterity with weapons, they were the hands of an artist. Yet he could also be extremely gentle with those hands, comforting friends and children, gesturing animatedly to illustrate a point.

I flashed back to when I'd attempted to seduce him under the effects of the Broca virus. His hands had clasped my bare upper arms to pull me off him; they'd been so warm and firm. My monkey brain recognized his virility; he was the leader, the Alpha ... and I wanted him.

Oh God; I wanted Colonel O'Neill.

End flashback

* * *

"Carter! Hey, Sam!" 

I blinked as I heard the General's dulcet tones. "Sorry, sir," I said, blushing and dragging myself back to the present.

"Penny for 'em?" he teased.

_You ... me ... hot monkey sex tonight!_ I shook my head, cursing the blush that once again lit my fair skin. "Not worth it, sir," I said, grabbing my merlot and sipping it cautiously. The last thing I needed tonight was to get drunk - my judgment wasn't exactly trustworthy right now.

The evening was great. My guys were the best friends a girl could have, and I had to wonder as Teal'c did why we didn't do this more often. Conversation flowed easily, touching only rarely on work, and the laughter was constant.

Jack and Daniel teased each other almost unceasingly - they could drive each other up the wall, in fact - but that was how their friendship manifested itself. Daniel had seen the General at one of his lowest points and had helped pull him back from the abyss. In return, the orphaned archeologist had gained the older brother that he'd probably never realized he needed.

Teal'c was quieter than Jack and Daniel, as was his wont, but his broad pleased smile indicated that he was also enjoying the evening. He stood up. "Colonel Carter ... Samantha; I would be most pleased if you would join me for this dance," he rumbled.

I stared at him. He could dance? He was a strong, toned warrior who moved with a certain feral grace, but I hadn't realized that he could dance. "I'd like that," I said, placing my hand in his large one.

We went over to the dance floor and he put his hands loosely on my waist. "You look very charming tonight, Samantha," he said quietly, with a flash of mischief. "And I am not the only one to have noticed."

I started as my hand went up to his massive shoulder. "Teal'c ...," I said in a strained tone. He'd witnessed our confession to deeper feelings during the Zatarc tests, but he also knew about the regulations standing in our way.

"Maybe it is too soon after your relationship with Pete Shanahan," he continued, "but it seemed to me that your heart was never truly committed to him."

I closed my eyes. I often forgot that this gigantic warrior - and one of my best friends - had lived for over a hundred years. Still waters ran deep, and his extra years of life had given him an almost uncanny perception. "Please ... don't," I said. "I just want to enjoy myself."

"Of course, Samantha," he replied. He turned me smoothly into a new movement. "But you cannot run away from your heart forever."

* * *

I waved as Daniel and Teal'c got into their cabs, then turned to the General. "Well ... it's a lovely night," I said. "I think I'll walk home." Besides, the air would do me good - I wasn't drunk, but was definitely ... the worse for wear. 

The General patted his stomach. "Think I'll join you, Sam; work off that cake." He gave me a teasing grin. "Got to keep my girlish figure, ya know!"

He put a light hand to my back to steer me in the right direction, and I closed my eyes at the warmth. Thoughts of hot monkey sex filled my mind again, and I was tempted to just screw the regs and find out exactly what I'd been denying myself for so many years. I gave a strong shudder of desire, then dismissed the notion with the ease of years of practice.

"Cold?" he asked. He shucked off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders before I could protest.

"It's okay, sir," I said, clutching at my discipline before it deserted me completely. Since when did a grown woman of thirty ... something feel flutters just by wearing a man's jacket? Even if it was a very sexy man's jacket? What was it about this man that made me feel like a teenager?

"Sam; the name's Jack. Remember?"

"Jack. Right."

We strolled along the quiet walkways in silence, simply enjoying the moonlit night and the gentle breeze that played along. Colorado Springs really _was_ a lovely part of America, and I was glad that the man beside me had taught me to see beyond the science to the beauty.

"Sam," he said suddenly, "do you ever ... ya know ... wonder? Wonder what might have been?"

My heart pounded. It wasn't like Jack to bring up feelings and for him to do so now ... I owed him my honesty. "I do," I said. "Sometimes I think we should just get it over with and at least find out what we're missing, but most of the time ...".

"The regs," he replied bluntly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I still care about you, Sam - more than I really should - and my term ends in four months."

"Sir; you can't retire," I interrupted him. He'd tried it before and, according to him, had been bored out of his skull until General Hammond had reactivated him. This man needed the Air Force - and the Air Force needed him.

"Sam; I'm gettin' old," he said. "I'm tired, I hate flying a desk, and I'm lonely." He gave a short mirthless huff of laughter. "People seem to think I'm a loner; I'm not." He touched my cheek. "I miss simply _being_ with someone, Sam."

I resisted the urge to turn my cheek into his warm hand. "Sir ... Jack ... I would never ask you to give up your career." I blinked as I realized I'd echoed my hallucination of him.

"I know." He dropped his hand and stuffed it back in his pocket. "And I probably won't. I just ... wonder sometimes."

"Yeah." I sighed as we turned into my street and stopped outside my door. "Would you like to come in, Jack?"

"I probably shouldn't, Sam," he said.

"Probably," I agreed, "but I think it's okay for you to have a coffee with me." The effects of the merlot had worn off, so I couldn't blame the wine for the sudden flirtatious note that had entered my voice.

He gave me a cheeky grin, the somber mood dispelled suddenly. "You sayin' I'm drunk, _Colonel_?" he teased.

I widened my eyes. "Of course not, sir," I teased right back, opening my door. He followed me in through the hall and into the kitchen.

I bent down to retrieve my coffee maker, then stood up, blinking as my head spun. "Whoa ...," I muttered.

A pair of warm hands landed on my waist, supporting me. "You okay, Sam?" Jack asked.

"Stood up too quickly," I said, sorely tempted to lean up against him. Maybe the wine _hadn't_ worn off after all. I turned and put the coffee maker on the counter, then began the search for coffee.

"Uh, Carter ... I'd better go," he said, snatching his hands off my waist like they'd been burned.

I wasn't stupid ... I knew that we were close to crossing that line. I closed my eyes. "Yes, sir," I said. I saw him to the door. "Good night, sir," I told him.

"Night, Sam," he replied quietly, then ducked his head and pressed a sweet chaste kiss to my lips.

I put my hand to his cheek and drew his face to mine, leaning my forehead against his. "I'll wait for you, Jack," I told him.

He drew back. "No, dammit; you won't," he flared. "You're a young, beautiful woman. If you meet someone who makes you happy, you'll give your whole heart to him. You deserve to love, and to be loved. Promise me."

I just looked at him. My heart belonged to him, but I didn't have the courage to tell him. "Jack ...," I sighed.

He moved away. "I have to go," he said. "Good night, Carter."

"Good night, sir."

I closed the door behind me, then leaned against it with another sigh. My hand went up to touch my lips, reveling in the brief kiss. His lips were as soft as I recalled from the harsh encounter of nearly eight years ago, but there was now so much more than simple monkey-brain sex to my feelings for the man.

I decided to have a shower before I headed for bed. I quickly headed upstairs, then stripped and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt wonderful as it hit my tense body. I stayed under the spray and just let it relax me. Suddenly a sharp pain seemed to ripple across my abdomen.

I gasped with the pain and doubled over. It came again, more broadly this time. I looked down and started to cry as I saw the blood washing down the drain. "Oh, God!" I muttered, sinking to the shower floor. What was happening to me? I managed to turn off the shower and then the pain increased in intensity and all I could do was lie there, clutching my midsection and crying.

"Sam?" I heard someone say softly.

I couldn't respond - could only give another cry of pain.

"Sam!" he said a little more loudly.

"Jack? Please ... please help me," I sobbed.

Jack appeared suddenly and grabbed my bathrobe from the hook on the door and covered me with it as he picked me up. "Sam?" he said. "Stay with us, baby."

"I'm here," I said weakly. "It hurts, Jack," I moaned as I gave in to the pull of oblivion.

* * *

I surfaced reluctantly and saw Janet's large brown eyes peering into mine. "J-Jan?" I muttered. 

"Hey," she said gently, "you gave us quite a scare, Sam."

"Sorry," I said, closing my eyes once more. So damn tired ... "Infirmary?" I asked. "What happened?"

"Sam ...". She took my hand gently. "We couldn't do anything - I'm afraid you lost the baby."

Pregnant? I was pregnant? Harsh tears stung my eyes and I blinked them fiercely away. "I see," I said, turning away. "I'm sure you did your best, Jan." _Please leave me alone!_, I thought.

She touched a gentle hand to my hair. "We've got some very anxious men waiting on news," she said. "They've been bouncing off the walls for the last forty eight hours."

My guys ... I could picture them pacing anxiously, drinking too much coffee and being chased out of here on a regular basis by Janet and her nurses. I managed a small smile, even though my heart was breaking. I'd lost a baby I hadn't even known about. "Okay; send them in," I said.

Janet helped me sit up and I ran a hand through my hair, knowing that I must look like something the cat had dragged in. Teal'c and Daniel came in. "Hi," I said.

"Hey," Daniel said gently, sitting down next to the bed and taking one of my hands in his. I realized he knew what had happened, but he didn't try any useless words.

"Samantha." Teal'c sat down on my other side and took my other hand in silent sympathy. "It is good to see you."

"Yeah," I said. "The General?" I couldn't even call him Jack when I was ill, I noticed.

Daniel gave a chuckle. "He's in a shouting match with a CIA agent," he said. "Talk about hate at first sight."

I smiled - Jack formed opinions about people quickly, and you soon knew if he liked you or not. He'd certainly cut me down to size during our first meeting with that line about having a problem with scientists.

I'd been so cocky and sure of myself - thought I was prepared for going through the 'gate. After all, I'd studied it for years. But the actual feeling of being taken apart atom by atom ... I'd nearly thrown up, and he'd been less than sympathetic. I'd deserved it, I realized in retrospect.

Speak of the devil. He walked in, muttering something uncomplimentary about bad-tempered redheads, then his face softened. "Hey, Carter," he said quietly. "How ya feeling?"

"I'm okay," I replied, my eyes closing despite my intentions. I was pretty tired, and realized that Janet must have put some Demerol into my IV.

"Daniel, Teal'c; Agent Johnson wants to see you two now," the General said. "Why should I have all the joy?"

"I suppose we'd better go, then," Daniel said. He squeezed my hand. "We'll be back soon, okay?"

"Okay," I said, forcing my heavy eyelids open. "Bye, guys."

Daniel and Teal'c gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek each, then left the Infirmary. That left me alone with the General. "So, how are you, really?" he said.

"I _am_ okay, sir," I said. "I should probably be fit for light duties next week; I know you were wanting us to go to J2X 741, but we could probably do that in a few weeks ...".

"A-ah!" He took the hand not connected to the IV and stroked his thumb across it. "Let the Doc make the diagnosis, okay? And don't worry about missions; you'll take as long as Napoleon says you need."

"I'm ignoring you, General," Janet said. She put a hand on my shoulder. "Sam; your body's been through a lot. It's going to take time - you have to accept that."

I shrugged listlessly and removed my hand from the General's. "Yeah," I mumbled. I closed my eyes and turned slightly. "Tired now," I said. I just wanted to be left alone.

"Okay," Janet said. "Sir; let Sam get some rest, huh? And you should go rest for a while, too - you look like hell."

"Yeah; love you too, Doc," the General grumbled.

I sighed as Janet steered the General out of the Infirmary, then rested my hand on my stomach. Tears pricked my closed eyes as I thought about the little life I'd lost. The poor little thing hadn't even had a chance to live - it wasn't fair.

A nurse came in and checked my IV, forcing me to blink back the tears. "Try to sleep, please, Colonel," she said softly.

* * *

The days passed slowly after my miscarriage. Daniel and Teal'c were frequent visitors and I appreciated their attention, but I was getting tired of them walking on eggshells around me. If one more person asked if I was okay, they were going to get a mouthful! 

The General was a less frequent visitor due to his responsibilities, but at least he didn't tiptoe around me. He bullied me into taking short walks, snuck in science periodicals and ice cream, and generally treated me like he would anyone else.

Seven days after the miscarriage - the day I was to be released - the General appeared at my bedside, bouncing on his toes like a child with a great big secret. "Hey, Carter!" he said. "Time to bust you outta here!"

I smiled slightly at him, appreciating his child-like side. "Yes, sir," I said. "Is that why you're so wound up?"

"Ah; I'm taking a coupla weeks off," he said. "Just finished handing over to Reynolds." He chuckled. "Left him with a huge honkin' backlog of requisitions too!"

I frowned. I was supposed to convalesce for two more weeks - please tell me he wasn't planning on hovering over me that entire time? "Sir?" I said.

"Carter ... _Sam_," he replied, "the Doc doesn't want you on your own for that time and you need a vacation. So ... me, you, Daniel and T - and Doc and Cassie of course - are off to the cabin for two glorious weeks of sunshine, fishing and barbecues."

I looked over at him, surprised at how accepting I was of him making this decision for me. Then again, since I'd lost my baby, I didn't really care so much about flexing my fem-power. Although the then-Colonel had kicked me off my feminist soapbox rather quickly into our acquaintance, I tended to take pride in my strength. But ... that was gone now. All I wanted was to curl up in a dark corner somewhere. "Okay, then," I told him.

He smirked at me. "_Ex_cellent!" he said. "And it's only taken me eight years to get your ass up there!"

"Well, you've got me now, sir," I said, then flushed at the double entendre.

He went pink of his own accord, then chuckled. "Cassie and the Doc took the liberty of packing some stuff for you," he said. "So, we can get goin' as soon as you're ready."

I smiled again - a little more brightly. "Actually, a vacation sounds rather nice, sir," I told him.

"Carter!" he whined. "Can we lose the 'sir'? We're on vacation!" He pointed to his chest. "Me Jack; you Sam," he said in a caveman voice.

Ass. I couldn't help the giggle that emerged, and he looked pleased. "Okay ... Jack," I said obediently.

* * *

I allowed Teal'c to settle me into the passenger seat of Jack's big truck, glad to get out of the mountain for a while. Although I could usually spend days there without noticing the passage of time, it was different now. I wasn't able to work and people were ... the looks were what I hated the most. I'm a Colonel in the US Air Force; I didn't want their pity. 

Teal'c got in his own truck next to Daniel, then Cassie and Janet squeezed in with them. "Good job you're a shrimp, Doc," the General teased as Janet slammed the door shut.

"Needles, Jack," Janet shot back, waggling her fingers expressively.

The General shuddered. "Pax?" he offered, widening his eyes appealingly. "Can I take some of your luggage?" he said as a peace offering. "I've got a huge back seat here."

"No; that's okay, sir," Janet said. "Sam; you may need to bunk out there - it's a long journey, so don't try to tough it out, huh?"

"Yes, Mom," I teased lightly.

"Let's go, campers!" the General ordered, starting the truck and pulling away from the complex.

As the big truck ate up the miles, he looked over at me. "I might give her a hard time, but she's right, ya know," he said. "You don't have to be the tough soldier all the time."

"Oh, look who's talking!" I shot back. _Crap; did I say that out loud?_ "Where d'you think I got the habit from?" I asked more quietly.

He smirked at me. "Jacob, of course."

I snorted with a sudden laugh. He was probably right. My dad was another stubborn soldier - just like the General and I. _Never let 'em see you hurting_ was pretty much the Carter MO.

I snuggled more comfortably into the wide leather seat and leaned my head back with a contented sigh. "It feels good to get away," I admitted. "I think I would've floored the next person who looked at me with a wide-eyed pity."

"Pity sucks," he said abruptly. "Hey! You don't think that's why I've hauled your ass outta there, do you?"

"No," I said. I straightened up and looked over at him. "You're the one person who hasn't walked on eggshells around me, and I appreciate it."

"Yeah, well ...". He gave the little cough that indicated embarrassment. "I've been through stuff myself, ya know. You get through it and, if you're lucky, you might be able to go a day without thinking about it."

'Stuff'. The General had gone through so much in his life. An Iraqi POW for four months, the death of his child, repeated torture and death at the hands of Baal ... What else had he gone through that I _didn't_ know about? I stretched my hand out and squeezed his briefly. "Thank you, Jack," I said softly.

He returned the brief squeeze. "You're welcome," he said gruffly. "Look; why don't you put your head back and relax? I'll wake you up in a couple."

I _was_ pretty tired, actually. This was my first day out since the miscarriage, after all. "I think I will," I said, lost for a moment in his soft brown eyes.

He gave me a slow tender smile. "Good," he said.

* * *

Northern Minnesota

"God; how'd they get here so quickly?" Jack said as we pulled into a clearing near his cabin. "T's only been here once!"

I chuckled. "Maybe they didn't spendtwo hoursinhaling cake," I said.

He'd actually bought a full pound cake in a diner and had proceeded to eat the entire thing in one sitting, much to my amusement and the waitresses' amazement. He'd topped it off with a pot of coffee and was now pretty wired.

"Is that snippiness, Carter?" he asked cheerfully.

"Is that a word, _sir_?" I shot back.

"Good point." He practically bounced out of the truck. "C'mon, Sam; let me show you around," he said eagerly.

I began to get carefully out of the big truck, not wanting to stretch my abused stomach muscles, and he took my elbows, heaving me out with seemingly little effort. "Good Lord!" I gasped. Although I was slim, I was no lightweight, yet he'd made nothing out of my weight.

He carried me over to the porch swing and settled me gently down before high-tailing it over to the rest of the gang. "Sam and I are goin' for a walk," he announced brightly. "Anyone wanna come with?"

That innocent question was greeted with groans and various pleadings of weariness, and Jack shook his head in disgust. "Geez; _I'm_ supposed to be the grumpy old fart, remember?" he teased.

Oh boy! I shook my head. God help us when the caffeine/sugar high wore off. I just hoped I could keep up with him in the meantime - I wasn't exactly fit yet.

He came back over to me. "Lazy slugs; they're gonna unpack and laze around, so I told 'em to unpack our stuff as well. You're in the east bedroom; great sunrise on that side. You'll love it. And no astrophysics speak when you're watching it either!"

I blinked. Did he even pause for breath during that speech? "Take deep breaths, Jack," I advised. "You're about to hyperventilate."

"I love it here," he said happily. "Let me show you why."

He held his hand out to me and I tucked mine into it, allowing him to draw me back up. We set off along the clearing at a slow considerate pace, to the accompaniment of crickets and birds. I looked at Jack as we strolled along. His face was so peaceful; not the hard General or the cheeky schoolboy - just Jack.

He linked his fingers with mine as we emerged from the clearing to a beautiful small lake. The waters were a clear blue and the shore was dotted with several tall strong trees. He touched a tree trunk. "This is my very favorite place in the universe, Sam," he said softly.

I chuckled. "Jack O'Neill likes trees, huh?" I teased. "Wait till I tell Daniel!"

He returned the chuckle, then stared at the tree. "Look up, Sam," he instructed.

I did so, and saw a small tree house. "This was Charlie's place," he told me. "He used to come up here when he wanted to cry."

I squeezed his hand, unbelievably touched at the way he was letting down some of his barriers. "You can't climb at the moment, Sam," he continued, "but if you need to be alone, just leave a note, come out here and we won't bother you."

The tenderness in his eyes, his warm fingers entwined in mine ... "Oh, God!" I gulped, feeling the tears leak out.

"C'mere, Sam," he murmured, and enfolded me in a warm embrace.

I dropped my head to his shoulder and started crying. "My ... baby!" I mourned. "It's not fair, Jack!"

He didn't say anything, didn't attempt to hush me - he just stroked my hair with one hand and rubbed my back with the other as I sobbed out the worst of my grief. I gave a final heave, then shuddered, still snuffling into his neck. "It's not fair," I repeated.

"No," he agreed hoarsely. "You'd be a great mom, Sam; this shouldn't have happened."

I wasn't so sure that I _would_ be a good mom; I'd never had a big maternal instinct except that time I'd stayed with Cassie when we thought she'd die. But I liked his faith in me. "Thanks, Jack," I muttered into his neck.

He kissed the top of my head. "You're welcome," he said. "You ready to go back to the cabin yet?" he added.

I nodded my head with a yawn. "Tired again," I admitted. The long journey and my crying jag had worn me out.

* * *

I awoke to the smell of pancakes, and realized that I was actually hungry for the first time in days. I got carefully out of bed and looked out of the window. Jack was right; the sunrise really _was_ beautiful, and I breathed in deeply, pleased when my stomach didn't protest the movement. 

I moved carefully to the ensuite and showered rapidly before changing into a long sleeveless dress and sweater. My stomach was still tender, so I didn't want to wear my usual jeans or anything with a waistband for that matter. I scrubbed a towel over my hair, glad that it was short. It saved a hell of a lot of work.

Then I stepped out of the bedroom and followed the smell to the kitchen. "Morning, guys," I greeted Daniel and Teal'c. "No shadow today, Daniel?" I teased.

"Janet's taken her into town," Daniel said, going red.

For some inexplicable reason, Cassie had developed a huge crush on Daniel and followed him round like a lost puppy. Jack thought it was hilarious and often pushed the two together - but Jack was evil that way. "So ... who made the pancakes?" I asked.

"I did, Colonel Carter," Teal'c said.

"A-ah!" I shot an index finger out at him. "We're on vacation; call me Sam."

Daniel snorted into his ever-present coffee cup. "You've been hanging around Jack O'Neill _way_ too long!" he said.

I sat down at the breakfast table and let Teal'c serve me a small portion of pancakes. He handed me a jug of maple syrup - goodbye waistline! - and I slathered the pancakes with the sweet treat. I dug in with a fork and took a cautious bite. "These are real good," I mumbled around a mouthful.

"Then you will eat them all, Colonel ... Samantha," Teal'c rumbled. "You need to regain your strength."

"Have you always been this much of a mother hen, or is this a new thing?" I teased, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

He arched an eyebrow. "It is not a weakness to need help, Samantha," he said. "It can be more of a weakness to not admit it. We are a team; we all help each other."

I touched his strong forearm. "You guys ...," I said, tears welling up once more. "You're the best."

"Hey; not interrupting anything, am I?" Jack inquired, strolling into the kitchen at that point.

I looked over at him. "Morning, Jack," I said, noting how positively delicious he looked in his baggy shorts and gray tee shirt.

"Morning, Sam," he replied. His eyes brightened. "Do I spot pancakes?"

"You do indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "Would you like some?"

"Huh; is Kinsey a snaky, slimy, double-dealing ...?"

"He _was_ all those things, Jack," Daniel said, interrupting Jack's flow. "You really think he survived his ship blowing up?"

Jack shrugged. "I'd like to think not, but the pessimist in me says he'll be back." He perched on the counter, his long legs dangling, and snagged some pancakes from the griddle. "Hot! Hot!" he yelped.

"Oh, God!" Daniel spluttered suddenly, going pink. He nudged me and nodded his head in Jack's direction.

I looked over and saw the exact same thing. I gave an alarmingly girlish giggle for a woman of my age and looked away hurriedly.

"What?" Jack said, chowing down on several pancakes in one go. "Hey, these are good, T! Got any more?"

"Nothing," Daniel managed to get out, his face now red from suppressed laughter.

The door opened and Janet and Cassie came in. "Morning, Sam!" Cassie said, then sidled over to Daniel. "Hi, Daniel," she added sweetly.

He cleared his throat, now red for a different reason. "Morning," he said gruffly. "Morning, Janet," he said rather more warmly.

"Daniel," she said, then came over to me. "Hey, Sam," she said. "Are you okay? You seem to be running a temp."

"Uh ..." - I choked back on my laughter as Jack's eyes darkened. "No; I'm fine, Jan," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from Jack.

She followed the path of my eyes, and her own widened. "Ah." She gave a short laugh.

Jack now sported a magnificent scowl. "If _someone_ doesn't tell me what's going on and soon, I'll open up a can of whup-ass on you all!" he threatened.

Cassie groaned and looked over at him. "Jack; there are people around," she said. "Put the mouse back in the house, huh?"

He blinked, then looked downward. "Oh, for cryin' out loud!" he exclaimed, going red as he zipped up his shorts. "How _old_ are you guys, anyway?"

* * *

That night

I lay in bed, listening to the crickets chirping, then started chuckling again at the adolescent moment we'd had this morning. I battered my pillow and turned over, wincing as the incautious movement pulled at my still-sore muscles.

We'd had a wonderful day after we'd stopped teasing Jack. He'd taken it in good part - mostly - but _had_ shoved Daniel into the lake when he'd made one too many cracks. Daniel had decided it was wise to avoid Jack after that, and had gone off exploring some nearby caves.

I spent the day with Jack fishing. Well, _he_ fished. I just dangled my feet into the cool water and enjoyed the sunshine and his quiet presence. It had been a comfortable silence, without any of the sexual tension that was usually present, and I could feel my wounded psyche beginning to heal.

Jack was right - I would _never_ forget, but I would be able to get past it. I put a hand to my abdomen. "Goodbye, little one," I whispered. "I would have loved you, you know."

A tear leaked out then and I pushed my face into the pillow, trying to silence my heart-broken sobs. The door opened. "Oh, Sam," Jack whispered. He came over, sat down and tugged me into him for a big hug as I cried all over him once more.

Slowly, the sobs subsided and I looked away from the tenderness in his chocolate eyes. "Thank you," I mumbled, swiping my hands over my eyes. "God; I must look terrible!"

"I've seen you look better," he agreed with a small smile, "but you're one hell of a beautiful woman, Sam."

Oh God; I loved this man! And I knew he loved me too, even though we couldn't do anything about it. I grasped one of his large hands, twining his fingers with mine. "Will you ... sleep with me tonight?" I asked. "Just ... hold me?"

He took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. "Of course," he said. He tucked his legs under the light sheet, then patted the pillow next to him. "C'mere," he ordered.

I lay down next to him and cuddled into his body, tucking my head into the crook between his neck and shoulder. I snaked an arm around his waist and breathed in his comforting scent. "I love you, you know," I told him matter of factly.

He gave me a tender smile. "I love you too," he replied softly, brushing a gentle kiss onto one of my tear-stained cheeks. "You think you can sleep now?"

"Uh-huh," I said around a big yawn. "Night, Jack."

"Night, Sam."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for the great reviews. Amazing how many of you seemed to love the shirtless slaves thing! I must have been in 'slightly smutty' mode when I came up with that paragraph._

* * *

**Part Three**

Something was crawling up and down my cheek. I twitched and swatted at it. "Go 'way," I mumbled irritably.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

A voice. A male voice. A very familiar male voice. I twisted round and saw Brigadier General Jack O'Neill lying next to me, propped up one elbow, wearing the smirk to end all smirks and trailing a finger up and down my cheek.

I closed my eyes. _Oh God, we didn't ...?_ "Sir?" I said cautiously.

"Carter," he replied, removing his hand. He sat up, revealing tee shirt and shorts and an acute case (or was that a _cute_ case?) of bed head - no doubt from his habit of hugging his pillow. No-one would ever have figured rough tough Brigadier General O'Neill for a snuggler. _Thank God._ "Sleep okay?" he asked.

"Uh ... yes, thank you sir," I said, cautiously patting down my own body, and relieved to find that I was also in tee shirt and shorts.

"A-ah! Vacation, Sam!" he reminded me.

"Jack," I agreed softly, blushing as I suddenly recalled telling him I loved him - and the way I'd snuggled into his body. It _had_ just been for comfort, but my monkey brain had registered instantly how good his muscled torso had felt against me ... his long legs tangled with mine ... his scent ... Jack O'Neill was a potent, sexy man - if they could bottle whatever it was that made up the O'Neill charisma, they could out-sell Viagra.

He gave me another smirk. "Better," he said. "And about what I said last night ..." - he gave a cough - "I meant it."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I did too," I said, "but ...".

"I know," he cut me off. "There's still the regs, and you've gone through something I can't begin to understand." He pressed his lips to my forehead. "But things have changed between us, Sam - we can't go back."

"And I don't want to," I told him. "I just ... need to get my head on straight." So much had changed in a few short weeks, and I was still reeling. I gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "To hold you over," I said almost shyly.

"Sweeeet," Jack said, and I couldn't help chuckling. He got out of the bed. "Well; me for a shower and a long hike - I wanna show Cassie and the Doc around."

"Just go gently, Jack," I advised. "Remember; Janet isn't fully fit yet."

"I'll be careful," he said. "This _is_ the woman who decides the size of the needles that end up in my butt, remember?" He gave me a cheeky grin and I chuckled. "So; you got any plans for today, Sam?" he added.

"Not hiking," I said with a grimace. "I think Janet would kill me if I attempted it."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly. He waved an expressive hand. "I've got a lot of books - some of 'em you might like; especially the astronomy ones. Spend the day in the sun with your quarks and your doppler shifts."

"That ... actually sounds pretty nice," I said, blinking. I sometimes forgot he was nowhere near as dumb as he pretended to be. A suspicion suddenly hit me. "Jack ... on Abydos, you knew perfectly well what Daniel and I were talking about, didn't you?" I asked.

I remembered the blank looks he and Major Kawalsky had exchanged as Daniel and I had expounded on the reasons why the symbols from the Abydos cartouche didn't work. I hadn't thought anything about it at the time - his attitude toward scientists hadn't given me the greatest respect for his brain.

But I recalled becoming suspicious several months later. We were setting off to see the black hole phenomenon on Hanka and I was telling Daniel about it. "Actually, it's called the accretion disk," the Colonel had pointed out absently, tying up his boot lace. That had made me suspect there was more rattling around his busy brain than brilliant offbeat tactics, sarcastic one-liners and ways to piss off System Lords.

"Ah." The General gave me a sheepish grin - that cute 'caught with his hand in the cookie jar' look. "I ... uh ... might have studied cosmology a bit at college."

"And got a degree?"

"Maybe," he said reluctantly.

More than a degree, I figured. I knew Jack had a bachelor's - you needed at least that much to enter officers' candidacy school - and wondered how much schooling he'd actually had. But I didn't want to press him. He'd tell me one day.

* * *

I changed into another floating sundress and smeared sunblock over my exposed skin. My fair Nordic skin burned easily and I didn't fancy getting baked out there. Whilst the lotion was sinking in, I went over to one of Jack's bookcases, blinking at the vast array of books. Eclectic wasn't the word for the collection. 

Sun Tzu's The Art Of War; Plutarch's Lives; The Iliad; National Geographics ... I chuckled at the Simpsons magazines. Then there were biographies; General Patton, Abraham Lincoln, Uma Thurman - ah, right; the 'celestial body'. I gave another snicker - he was such a typical _guy_ sometimes. Then other times he was like no-one I'd ever met.

I moved over to another bookcase and pulled at a soft leather file. I opened it up and saw the title page: **Doppler Shifts: The Expanding Universe Model. A Statistical Analysis and Five-Thousand Year Projection. By John J. O'Neill.** Holy Hannah! Nowhere _near_ as dumb as he acted.

It was dated 1980, making it twenty five years old and therefore pretty out of date. But it would still be interesting. I tucked the file under my arm and headed outside to a lounger someone - Jack, no doubt - had thoughtfully set up for me.

I lay down and opened the file, then began reading, losing myself in the General's writings. How he made statistical analyses interesting was anyone's guess, but I was fascinated by the way his mind worked. There was no chance on Netu I was ever letting him play dumb again! Some of his theories were a little out there, and logic sometimes took a vacation, but it really _was_ an excellent piece of work all in all.

By the time I'd finished reading the dissertation, I was pretty thirsty. I looked at my watch and yelped. Wow; 1300 hours already! Where _had_ the time gone?

"Sam? You okay?" Daniel wandered over to me. "You're looking pretty beat." He frowned down at the file. "You'd better not be working there; we're on vacation, remember?"

I smiled at him. "Just reading, Daniel," I soothed the guy I thought of as my brother. He was much closer to me than Mark had ever been - we'd literally gone through Hell together. I closed the file, not willing for Daniel to find out about Jack's hidden side. If Jack wanted him to know, _he'd_ tell him.

I got up off the lounger, stifling a gasp as my stomach muscles protested the sudden movement. "How about some lunch?" I asked brightly.

"You're cooking?" He gave me a dubious look as we headed into the house.

I frowned at him. "You really _do_ have a rotten streak, Daniel Jackson," I said.

"Hey; I've eaten your MREs before!" he said.

"And you didn't think it was the fact that they were MREs that made them suck?" I teased right back. I knew full well the guys' opinion of my domestic abilities - or lack thereof. I actually _could_ cook, and pretty well, but when there was only me around - and add the fact that I sometimes didn't get home for days at a time - it was far easier to simply nuke something or call for take-out.

* * *

Three hours later

"Do I smell cake?" Jack asked, bouncing into the kitchen with an energy that belied his frequent complaints about getting old.

"Uh-huh," Cassie mumbled around a gargantuan slice of pie. "Sam ..." - she coughed and swallowed - "Sam's been cooking up a storm while you've been out playing frontier man."

"Sam?" Jack looked warily at Cassie's bulging cheeks. "Should I get the Doc in here?"

I rolled my eyes. "General; I actually _can_ cook, you know. Why d'you assume I'm a disaster in the kitchen?"

His eyes twinkled. "The huge pile of takeout menus, perhaps, _Carter_," he shot back. He sniffed cautiously. "Smells pretty good, though," he offered.

"Have some," Cassie said, proffering a vanilla pound cake - now half gone. Janet and Daniel had descended on the cake a quarter hour earlier and had stuffed themselves.

Jack took the smallest portion possible and bit warily into it. He chewed fewer than the recommended number of times, then swallowed. "Hmmm, not bad," he said. "But I'll need to test another slice to make sure." He cut a somewhat larger portion and wolfed it down, his eyes closing in bliss. "Carter?" His eyes opened. "Is there brandy in this?"

"Yes, sir," I said lightly. "It's an old Carter family recipe - my dad gave it to me just after he blended with Selmak."

He smiled at me. "Always knew there was a reason I loved your dad," he said. "So ... why've you been holding out on this ability?" He gave me another charming smile.

_Oh, you're one to talk!_, I mused indignantly. "Sir; none of you ever _asked_ if I could cook - you just assumed I couldn't. And I didn't want to end up taking all the KP shifts on missions."

"Carter; would we have done that to you?" Jack protested. I just looked at him, and he chuckled slightly. "Point taken," he acknowledged.

Suddenly, the door crashed open and Janet came in, lips set and eyebrows furrowed. Daniel came in shortly thereafter. "Janet?"

"Leave me alone, Daniel!" she snapped. "Just ... mind your own business!" With that, she stormed off for her bedroom. She was too small to flounce, but she made an impressive exit nevertheless.

"Trouble in paradise, Daniel?" Jack teased.

"Just ... leave it, Jack," Daniel retorted irritably, heading off for his own bedroom.

* * *

That night

I woke up and stretched lazily, then leaned over to look at the clock. 0300. What on Earth ...?

I turned and punched my pillow, then became aware of two angry voices. Janet and Jack. "Christ, Jan! You're a doctor, for cryin' out loud!"

"I'm still human, Jack!" the petite woman retorted. "And it hurts ... so damn much."

"Oh, God ...," Jack rumbled. "Come here, honey," he added more gently.

My curiosity piqued, I got up and headed toward the living room, to find Janet enclosed in a massive Jack-patented bear-hug crying her heart out. I smiled slightly at the sight. Jack O'Neill; military hugging machine. "Is everything okay, Janet?" I asked softly, wondering what could have caused my strong best friend to fall apart like this. The last time I'd seen her so upset was when Nirrti's damn experiments had nearly killed Cassie.

Janet looked up from her position in Jack's arms, her eyes streaming. "No," she choked out. "I've messed everything up ... so badly."

"Is it Daniel?" I asked curiously.

She shook her head violently. "No. Well ... a little bit," she said. "I've already told the General the truth; you need to know also as his 2IC ... and my best friend." Her hands went up to cover her face.

"Jan? You can tell me anything," I said, sitting down next to her.

She looked up once more. "I'm ... resigning my Air Force commission, Sam," she said. "I can't ... do it anymore. Can't pretend anymore."

"Resigning?" I was shocked - she'd made such good progress the last few months. "I thought you were getting better."

"Sam ... just let me say it, will you?" Janet burst out. I squeezed her hand in silent apology. "I ... need help. I've been taking pain killers for over a year. I don't know when I stopped really needing them, but now ... I need them."

Oh, God ... The Air Force had no place for addicts. She'd effectively killed her career. But that was the last thing she needed to hear. "So ... what now?" I asked, putting an arm around her, brushing my hand against Jack's in the process.

"So ... I try to get over this, and start again," Janet replied softly. "I'll never be able to work as a doctor again, but I couldn't kid myself any longer. I've not been fit for duty since 666."

"Doc ... you can't throw your life's work away over this," Jack protested. "For cryin' out loud, you stuck by me when I came back from Iraq!" He frowned at an evidently disturbing memory, and I wondered what else had happened to him when he'd been held prisoner those long months. "Effective immediately, you're on two months personal leave. Get your head on straight, then come back and torture us all with huge honkin' needles." He held up his hand as Janet opened her mouth to protest. "That's an order, _Major_!" he barked, but his eyes were tender.

More tears appeared. "God ... Jack," she choked out, shrinking until she appeared even tinier. _Jack?_

"C'mere," he ordered softly, wrapping her in his arms once more as she cried against him.

* * *

The next day

"_Good_ morning, campers!" Jack caroled, bounding into the kitchen, a huge triumphant grin on his face. "Guess who caught a fish today, kids?"

Teal'c tilted his head curiously. "There are no fish in that lake, O'Neill," he stated.

"That's what I always thought," Jack said with another grin. "Shows what I know, huh?"

I loved him like this - the wide, open grin we saw so rarely. I'd often seen him amused, triumphant, gleeful ... yet always with a shadow in his eyes. Rarely had I seen him so happy as he'd been the last few days. I smiled slightly, my feminine ego allowing me to think maybe I had a little something to do with that. Although we'd gone no further than a gentle brush of lips, there was now a promise of better things to come.

"I kid you not, T," Jack continued, digging in his basket and producing a bass _that_ big. "Boy, are we gonna eat well this morning!"

There was a sharp knock on the door. "Yeah; hold on!" Jack complained, pivoting on his heel. Another knock sounded. "For cryin' out loud; hold your bladder!" he yelled.

By the sounds, it appeared as if he nearly wrenched the door off its hinges. "Can I help you, gentlemen?" he said, slipping instantly from 'Jack' to 'General'. That told me that our visitors were USAF.

A low conversation - the import of which I couldn't make out - ensued, then Jack stormed back in, the grin gone and his brown eyes nearly black with anger. "I have to leave for a coupla days," he said. "Seems the Pentagon wants my ass over somethin'."

"Jack ... you're on leave," Daniel said.

Jack shrugged. "That's what I told 'em, but seems Jumper has other ideas."

Jumper? General _John_ Jumper; Air Force Chief of Staff?

"Anyway, I'll be back in a couple. In the meantime, make yourselves at home, kids," Jack continued. "Carter; look after yourself."

"Yes, sir," I said.

He touched one hand gently to my cheek - a wisp of a touch - then strode back out of the kitchen.

* * *

Several days later

"You miss him, don't you?"

Daniel looked at me with piercing blue eyes that didn't miss anything; no matter how hard he tried to portray the bumbling archeologist.

I sighed. "It's ... complicated, Daniel," I ground out. For God's sake; he'd worked with the SGC for nearly eight years! He knew Air Force regs nearly as well as any officer!

He shook his head. "You make it complicated, Sam," he told me. He regarded me solemnly, looking very boyish for his nearly forty years. I so often thought of him as a little brother that I sometimes forgot he was actually a couple years older than me. "You and Jack; you're meant for each other." He took my free hand. "What if the regs weren't an issue?"

Tears sprang to my eyes. "Daniel ...," I muttered. I couldn't deal with 'What if' right now. I'd tortured myself with that thought for years.

* * *

Flashback - several months earlier

Lost in thought, I gazed blankly at my laptop. My CO strolled in. "Carter."

"Sir," I replied.

"I never thought I'd hear myself utter these words: I need that report."

Crap! "Right! Um, I just need to ... uh ... finish typing up my notes." I rummaged through the paperwork on the desk. "Uh ... yeah, I'll have it for you first thing tomorrow."

The General looked at his watch. "It _is_ tomorrow," he pointed out.

I looked at my own watch. "Oh," I said rather lamely.

"I'm joking! I don't need the report!"

Okaaaaaay. The General had his foibles, sure - was known as being somewhat eccentric - but sometimes he could be just plain weird. "Well, then, why ...?"

"Because something's going on with you. You haven't tried to confuse me with any scientific babble for the last couple of days and that's a red flag to me."

I sighed silently at his usual pretense of ignorance, then picked up the box containing the engagement ring Pete gave me. I handed it to the General. "Pete gave me this."

The General took the box, opened it, looked at the ring, then at me. "People normally wear these on their fingers."

Smart ass. Another not-so-endearing O'Neill trait.

"I haven't said yes," I said.

"And yet ... you haven't said no." He snapped the box shut with a loud click.

"I told him I needed to think about it." What was to think about? I loved him, right?

"And?" The General put the box on the desk.

"That was two weeks ago."

"Ah." Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter; meet General John J. O'Neill, king of the monosyllable.

I took a deep breath, wondering why I was confiding in him about something like this. Although we'd all grown close over the last seven plus years, the General and I had never had a personal discussion like this ... except after the Zatarc testing. "You know, all these years I've been concentrating on work - I just assumed that one day I would ...".

"Have a life?"

Like he'd been nagging me to for years. "Yeah!" I agreed.

"Yeah."

"And now it comes down to it, I don't know. I mean, every time we go through the 'gate, we risk not coming back. Is it fair to put somebody else through that?"

"Pete _is_ a cop. I think he could handle it."

Good point. But ... "What about kids?"

"What about 'em?"

"Do I take maternity leave and then come back? What, do I drop the baby off at daycare on my way to some unexplored planet on the edge of the Crab Nebula?" Sarcasm 101, by Professor Jack O'Neill. I'd learned well.

"Carter, there are people on this base who have families."

I pondered that for a moment, then risked looking into my CO's soft chocolate eyes. Chocolate; the most wonderful thing in the known universe. Closely followed by Jack O'Neill's amazing eyes ... _Focus, Sam!_ I took a deep breath and made myself ask _the_ question. "What about you? If things had been different ...". I trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

The General looked seriously at me for a moment. "I wouldn't be here," he stated simply.

* * *

End flashback

I blinked back to Daniel. "But they are," I stated simply. "He's not willing for me to give up my career."

"You don't have to," Daniel said. "All one of you has to do is leave the SGC."

"Daniel?" I dropped heavily into my seat and stared piercingly at one of my best friends. "Why has the Chief of Staff summoned Jack?"

Daniel shifted uncomfortably, looking guilty. "Damn," he muttered. "He made me promise not to tell till things were decided," he said.

"Daniel ...," I growled.

I'd learned a lot about intimidation in nearly eight years serving with a former Black Ops soldier and a Jaffa. Daniel gave in quickly. "Jack spoke to General Hammond yesterday - he's submitted a formal request for immediate retirement."

Panic clutched at me. Retirement? He couldn't do that! He was too young - too vital - to leave. And if - _big_ if - we ever got together, he'd end up resenting me. "He's talked about retirement before," I said. "He'll rescind this request."

Daniel frowned. "I don't think so, Sam," he said gently. "The job's killing him - slowly but surely. He wasn't meant for all that nit-picking piddly administrative shit."

I closed my eyes, remembering the nonchalant way he'd strolled into the Ancient ship on Maybourne's planet; the quiet 'woo-hoo' when he sat in the seat; the way he'd reacted when Harry's subjects had threatened us. "_God_, I've missed going off world!" he'd exclaimed joyfully, lowering his P90. He'd been like a man reborn.

The back door opened quietly. "Hey, kids," the man himself said.

I turned round. "Hey," I replied quietly, looking at him closely. He'd always had an endearing Peter Pan quality to my mind - his face not showing his years and experiences - but I now realized with a pang that the years had finally caught up with him.

Daniel was right; Jack should never have accepted the promotion. Even if he couldn't have stayed in the field much longer - and I thought he seriously under-estimated his own fitness there - there were opportunities far more attractive to a man like Jack O'Neill than running the SGC.

Even with the enemies he'd made, he was far too valuable and experienced an officer for the Air Force to sideline. He could have had his pick of assignments. So why ...?

I shook my head with a silent growl. Why was I torturing myself with these questions? I would never know the answers.

"So ... what did the Pentagon want with you, Jack?" Daniel inquired. He'd known Jack O'Neill too long to stand on ceremony.

Jack frowned slightly. "I need to talk to Carter ... alone," he said.

Daniel looked back and forth between us like a spectator at a tennis match. "Oh-kay," he agreed readily, getting up. "Maybe I'll go and bother Janet," he said. Over the last couple of days, he and the diminutive doctor had been working on rebuilding their strained friendship. Daniel had had his own experience with addiction when he'd met Shyla and had become hooked on the effects of her sarcophagus, and had been very supportive to Janet whilst not smothering her.

After Daniel had gone, Jack sat down next to me at the table. "I spoke to Hammond," he said. "Submitted my request for retirement." I opened my eyes widely, aiming for shocked surprise. I couldn't fool him, though - he'd known me too long, and I just wasn't that good an actress. "Space Monkey already told ya, didn't he?" he added wryly, using the appellation he hadn't used for years.

"Afraid so," I agreed softly. "I hope he didn't agree."

Jack looked at me narrowly. "None of them agreed," he said shortly. "They've put a 'stop loss' on my file for the next five years."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief, although the idea of waiting another five years for this man was intolerable. "Good," I said. "You're not ready to retire."

"So ... what now?" he asked. "The regs still stand in our way - hell, we've already breached them in more ways than one. But I don't want to hurt your career, Carter."

"So ... we get on with our lives," I said. "It can't be any other way," I practically whispered, dropping my eyes from his dark brown gaze.

He chuckled suddenly and my head flew up. "God, Sam ... for a genius, you can be really slow sometimes!" he said.

"What?"

"I'm not retiring, Carter, but I _am_ being re-assed," he said. He took my hand and stroked his thumb gently across the back of it.

"You're leaving the SGC?" I said blankly, trying not to focus on the tingling sensation produced by his thumb.

"Yep," he said, with a pleased little boy grin on his face. "In two weeks' time, you'll be looking at Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, commander of the new fleet."

"What?" I said again. Oh, yeah; real genius!

"Nellis?" he prompted. "The F304s? I'll be fleet commander and also ... Captain of the Daedalus. We'll be heading for Pegasus; track down the Atlantis expedition."

I remembered the look on his face the day we'd lost contact with our world's first inter-galactic exploration team. 'No-one gets left behind' was one of Jack O'Neill's mantras and I knew he'd worked overtime trying to persuade the brass at The Pentagon to authorize a rescue mission. "And ... how long will you be gone?" I asked, trying to process this information.

"Well ... Pegasus isn't exactly a step away," he said. "Even with the Asgard hyperdrive that my favorite little gray guy gave us, it'll take about three weeks to get there. Then we'll have to search for Weir's GDO ... It could take a while."

My heart sank. He could be gone years - he might never come back. "It's an ... exciting opportunity for you, sir," I said, beginning the painful process of distancing myself. "Congratulations."

"Sam." He linked his fingers with mine. "You know there are no guarantees in life, but I'll do my best to keep my worthless butt safe."

He was _not_ worthless. I swore to myself that he'd believe that one day. Even if I had to beat it into his stubborn skull. "And in the meantime ...?" I asked.

"You be happy," he commanded. "If you meet someone, you give him your whole heart. Let him get to know the real Sam Carter; the one with big blue eyes, great body ..."

I snorted at that.

"... and the moves that could disable him for life in three seconds flat. Be a woman _and_ a kick-ass soldier."

* * *

That evening

I put down my knife and fork with a groan. I was literally stuffed - I felt like a beached whale. "That was great, Jack," I told him, now accustomed to calling him by his first name. Perhaps a little more accustomed than was good for us as things currently stood - for the next two weeks, we _were_ still in the same chain of command. "But you're going to have to use a winch to get me out of this chair."

His eyes twinkled. "Oh, I think this old carcass can cope with hauling you around," he said.

Recalling the ease with which he'd lifted me out of his truck and carried me to the cabin, I nodded my head with a slight blush. That wasn't the first time Jack had carried me places - after all, we'd served together for seven years - but it was the first time I'd been conscious to appreciate his hidden strength. "I wish you'd stop calling yourself old," I told him. "You're _not_ old."

"Huh." He gave a slight snort of amusement. "Wait till _you're_ staring fifty in the face, Sam. You'll be singing a different tune."

I sipped my wine and perused the man sitting next to me. His face wasn't exactly chiseled, and his nose had been broken more than once, but he was very good looking. And as for the gray hair ... well, Jack O'Neill could single-handedly make gray hair sexy. Maybe it was the contrast with the dark eyes and tanned skin.

He smiled. "Whatcha thinking, Sam?" he asked.

I took another sip of wine. "You," I said boldly. "You're very handsome."

He choked on his beer, his eyes wide. "And I always thought you had taste!" he teased.

Maybe the wine was to blame for what I said next. "I have excellent taste," I said. "I like your legs, your ass, the width of your shoulders. You've got a great smile that you should show more often, and the best eyes in the world. What's _not_ to like?"

He smirked, although I could see him go red. "You've looked at my _butt_?" he said.

"All those years of watching your six on missions? It wasn't exactly a hardship!" I laughed back.

"Huh." He chuckled, then looked me up and down deliberately. "I like _your_ six as well," he said. He made a squeezing motion with his free hand. "Round and cheeky - suits you perfectly."

I'd incautiously chugged down the last of my wine, and nearly choked on it at that comment. "Jack ...," I said. "Are you hitting on me?"

His eyes fell and he picked at the label on his bottle. "Sorry," he muttered. "I keep forgetting who we are."

"It's okay; I don't mind," I reassured him. "Besides, I started it." He smirked and my gaze was drawn to his lips. Thin, but nicely shaped - and they were surprisingly soft, my hormones reminded me. I traced his bottom lip with an index finger. _Nice. Very, very nice._

"Sam. You sure?" He brushed back some hair that had fallen into my eye.

"I am," I said. Oh geez, it was really going to happen! Years of suppressed sexual tension was about to be released. It would either be wonderful or a huge anti-climax. In some ways, it would make life much easier if the latter were the case - I'd be able to move on. But I was sick of playing it safe.

He put down his beer, then took my glass out of my hands, setting it down on the table. He touched his hand to my cheek and took my lips in a soft kiss, tugging gently at my lower lip.

I'd been kissed before, many times - I was hardly a nun, although not that experienced either - but I was pretty sure this was the best kiss I'd ever had. I slid my fingers into the close-cropped hair that still somehow managed to stick out madly and opened my lips to his questing tongue. I sighed happily as our tongues dueled gently - this was even better than my hallucination!

The kiss remained gentle, but not tentative - Jack O'Neill was a man, not a boy - and he didn't push it any further. We broke apart when the need for oxygen became too great. "Wow!" I gulped.

"Yeah." He gave me a smirk. "If I'd known that a kiss would've reduced Doctor Carter - queen of techno-babble - to monosyllables, I'd've planted one on you the day we met."

I chuckled at that, glad for his sense of humor - it dispelled any awkwardness we might have felt. "I would've hit you if you'd tried," I said. "You were such an ass that day." A hot, sexy ass - but an ass nonetheless.

"Yeah?" He grinned devilishly. "And you were an uptight Air Force feminist brat with a chip on your shoulder the size of Texas. But you were right when you said I really _would_ like you when I got to know you."

I smiled, remembering the sarcastic "Oh, I adore you already, Captain" - moments before he shoved me into the wormhole. I got up and began to gather up the dishes. "Well, in payment for that meal, I'll wash up," I told him.

"Huh; you've already paid me, Sam!" he said, touching a finger to my lips. "But, if you insist ... here's your change!" He put a sweet kiss onto the tip of my nose and I laughed. I'd always been pretty serious, but meeting this man had changed me - I laughed a lot more than I used to. I'd become a better soldier, a better scientist and a more rounded person.

"Hey; what have I told you about giggling?" he grumbled with a pout, making me laugh harder.

The tears were now pouring down my cheeks and my stomach was in knots. It hadn't been that funny but sometimes I would get these silly girly moments when I couldn't stop laughing. It usually occurred when I was exhausted, but could happen at other times too. "God; stop!" I begged him, clutching at my abdomen, the dishes crashing to the floor.

"Crap!" My giggles beginning to dissipate, I got down on my haunches and began to gather up some of the larger pieces.

Jack got down on his knees, helping me. "Klutz," he said cheerfully, planting a soft kiss onto my surprised mouth.

I couldn't help myself; I dropped the pieces, slid my hands into his hair and explored his lips, teeth, tongue and palate greedily with my own lips and tongue. After about two seconds, he took control, sliding his hands down to my hips to haul me to my feet. We sank into each other, tongues fighting for dominance ...

"Ahem!" someone coughed.

Jack groaned. "Daniel; your timing sucks," he complained as he untangled his long body from mine. "_Jacob_?" he nearly squawked.

* * *

My eyes flew open. Oh. My. God. Retired Major General Jacob Carter stood next to Daniel, looking like he was about to have an apoplectic fit. "Hi, Dad," I said weakly. 

My dad didn't even look at me. "O'Neill; you'd better have a damn good explanation for this!" he barked, playing the superior officer stroke concerned dad card.

"Could we talk in private, sir?" Jack said as respectfully as he ever got when dealing with the brass. He and my dad had always had a weird friendship, based on some cheerful antagonism, the alpha male thing and a mutual respect for each other's abilities and who they were. It hurt me that Jack just might have lost my dad's respect.

"Why?" my dad barked. "You weren't shy a minute ago when you were all over my daughter, Airman!"

I could've sworn Jack blanched.

"For God's sake, you two!" my dad burst forth as Daniel skedaddled hastily. "You ever hear of the frat regs! I'd be perfectly within my rights to haul you in for court martial!"

"Sir; I'm the senior officer - I take full responsibility for this," Jack said, instinctively trying to protect me.

"Hey; I kissed you back!" I said indignantly. Jack took responsibility to extremes sometimes. If there was going to be trouble over this, I was determined that he wouldn't bear it alone. For better, for worse, etc. I turned to my father, hands on my hips. "Yes; we've crossed the line," I said, "and maybe you _should_ report us. But ..." - I took a deep breath - "I love this man. And he loves me."

I'd swear the air was super-charged with the tension currently flying around.

A chuckle emerged suddenly from my father. "Dad?" I said uncertainly. He was laughing?

"Sorry, kiddo," he said. "I heard about Jack being re-assed a couple days ago - knew neither of you would wait for long after that to get your act together."

I blushed. "You _knew_ about our feelings?" I said.

"I saw the chemistry when I ran into you at the award ceremony in DC," Dad replied, "but knew neither of you would do anything about it." I blushed again. My CO had been looking particularly fine in his dress blues that day, and he'd been light-hearted and charming by his standards. My heart _had_ fluttered a little.

"I started to worry when I heard about that mess with the Zatarc hunt, but relaxed when the Entity thing happened," Dad continued. He put a hand on my cheek. "I knew then that Jack's feelings wouldn't stop him doing his duty, although I'd rather he hadn't proved it by zatting you - twice."

Jack exhaled noisily. "So, what the hell was that performance?" he exclaimed.

"You don't think I was entitled to bust your chops a little, Jack?" Dad teased. "If not as a superior officer, then as Sammie's father." He looked at me. "Now, sweetheart, give your old man a hug."

I gave a mingled sigh of relief and huff of exasperation, then allowed my father to draw me into a gentle embrace. "Hey, Dad," I said, alarmed to feel the bones of his shoulder blades. He'd always been a thin man, but since blending with Selmak and joining the Tok'ra he'd developed a good deal of wiry muscle.

I pulled back from the hug and examined his face thoughtfully. His dark eyes were tired looking, and had deep shadows under them. "Dad; is Selmak not looking after you properly?" I inquired.

He blinked. "It's been a rough year," he said. "Baal's been keeping us hopping."

I nodded my head, certain I could feel Jack tensing near me. Of his many horrific memories, Baal's fortress figured pretty prominently. Since the final split in the troubled alliance last year and Anubis's defeat, Baal had been a busy boy. He'd taken control of the Kull warriors and was systematically wiping out the other System Lords.

"Jacob," Jack said suddenly, "you wouldn't bullshit a fellow General, would you?"

Dad smirked. "It's fine, Jack," he said, patting the other man's shoulder. "We just need a vacation. That's why I'm here. Thought I'd stay here for a couple weeks. Selmak always wanted to visit your cabin."

Fury shot into Jack's features - a fury I hadn't seen since Daniel had ascended. "Jacob ...," he growled. "I can ... feel it," he said hesitantly. "Something's off balance," he added.

What? "Jack ...," I said warily, putting my hand out to him. "Are you all right?"

He blinked. "Maybe I'm ... crazy or something," he grumbled. "But ... Selmak's ill." He put his hand to the back of my dad's neck - where Selmak was located - and closed his eyes. "She's dying," he said.

"Dad?" I grabbed my father's hand, for the moment not caring how Jack had learned this. "Is it true?"

My dad stared at Jack. "Yeah," he said tiredly. "She's been ill for a few weeks now - I've been keeping her going till we could come here. I wanted to see you again."

"Dad ...". The tears were now rolling down my cheeks for an entirely different reason. "You can't die," I protested.

"Sammie ...". He clutched my hand. "Selmak's given me seven years I never would've had. And it's been one hell of a ride for an old soldier like me."

"But ... why didn't the Tok'ra take Selmak out? You could come back here or get another symbiote."

"I don't want another symbiote, kiddo." Dad's dark eyes bore into me. "We love each other - I don't suppose you can understand that a symbiote and a host can actually love each other."

He was right. My brief possession - I couldn't call it anything else - by Jolinar had left me unable to appreciate the bond that could develop between a willing host and a Tok'ra. "No," I admitted, "but I can't believe you're willing to die! I thought you loved me! How can you leave me?"

"Sammie ...".

I wrenched away from him, sobbing wretchedly. It was too much for me to cope with - my baby and my father dying in the space of a month. "Jack," I muttered. "I have to get out of here."

He slid his arm around my shoulders and I sagged gratefully into him, no longer caring what my father thought. The hell with him. "Be strong, Sam," he said, pressing a soft kiss to my damp cheek. He turned to Dad, and put his free hand to the back of his neck once more.

Suddenly he closed his eyes. "Jack?" Dad and I both gasped.

"Sssshhh," Jack mumbled, increasing the pressure on Dad's neck and manipulating his long fingers.

"Selmak's getting stronger," Dad said suddenly. "But ... how?"

I was equally bewildered. Jack had managed to heal Bra'tac when Ronan had tried to kill him - but that was after he'd gone 'Ancient'.

Jack opened his eyes and I shuddered at the bone-deep weariness in them. He swayed on his feet, then smiled weakly at my Dad. "Hey," he said lamely.

"Lucy ...," Dad said in his best 'Ricky' voice - "I think you got some 'splainin' to do!"

Now, that was just creepy. Had Dad become like Jack or had Jack become like my dad? Dismissing that, I put my hand on Jack's. "What the hell ...?" I said, gesturing wildly.

Jack gave me another weak smile. "Long version or short?" he asked.

"Short - for now," I told him, frowning as he wobbled again. Dad and I helped him over to the couch and we sat down. "Now talk," I said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

"Sam; you remember the first time I stuck my head in that ... dang Ancient head-sucker thing?" Jack began.

Like I could ever forget. He'd been so bewildered at the rapid changes occurring in his mind - why he was doing things not of his own volition - and the look in his brown eyes had frightened me. I'd seen the then-Colonel at low points before, but I'd never seen him so helpless.

Then he'd managed to 'gate to Othalla where the Asgard had wiped the knowledge from his mind. He'd returned to the SGC with no memory of what he'd done while 'possessed', for want of a better word, and life had returned to whatever passes for normal in the SGC.

"Jacob ..." - Jack turned to my dad - "more than a year ago, I did it again."

Succinctly put.

"I remember sticking my head in that thing ... I spent some time with Sam and the kids before we came back to work, then I didn't remember anything until I woke up on Thor's ship." He sighed and fiddled with a tassel on one of the cushions. "Thor told me he'd taken all that crap outta my head, then we had that whole big thing with the bugs." He grimaced and shifted his long legs. "I got promoted, and we went back to work."

"But that's not all, obviously," Jacob said impatiently.

"No," Jack admitted. "I've been noticing ... stuff for a few weeks now. I could feel people's pain if they were ill or injured, but the first time I really realized it was when ..." - he gripped my hand tightly. "Sam," he said gently. "It was _that_ night."

I gasped. The night I lost my baby. At the time, I'd not thought to question how he'd seemed to sense that I needed help, but now ... "You still have the Ancient healing ability," I said slowly. "That's how you were able to help Selmak."

"Sammie?" My dad stared hard at our linked hands, then cleared his throat. "What 'night'?" he queried.

I felt tears spring to my eyes, then Jack's arm came around my shoulders. I leaned gratefully into his warm body, taking solace from his strength. "A couple of weeks ago, I had a miscarriage," I told my dad.

My dad looked at me in pain. "Oh, baby," he said softly, "I'm so sorry."

I managed a wisp of a smile. "It's okay," I said. "I wasn't alone, and it's getting a bit easier every day." I looked at the two men I loved most in the world. "What else did the Asgard not take out of your head?" I asked Jack.

Jack shrugged, the nonchalant manner belied by the uncertainty in his eyes. For a hardened soldier pushing fifty, he looked more like a hurt child when he wore that look. "No idea, Sam," he said. "I trusted Thor - thought he was my buddy - and then he screws me over. But if things go down the crapper again ... no heroic measures. And I certainly don't trust those little gray guys to pull my ass out of the fire."

I stared at him. "That's why you've taken command of the Daedalus, isn't it?" I said. "To go out in a blaze of glory in some God-forsaken part of the universe?" And yet I wasn't surprised. A man like Jack O'Neill would never have dreamed of dying peacefully in his sleep. He firmly believed that it would be at the wrong end of a staff weapon.

He looked surprised at my vehemence. "I'm ... sorry, Sam," he said in low tones. "I was kinda hoping you'd never find out - that I'd be off world before I started changing. But I couldn't ignore Selmak's pain, now that I know how to control my abilities."

He closed his eyes, then opened them, and I gasped. They were pitch black and didn't seem quite human. "What on Earth ...?" I said.

"I love you, Sam," Jack said, not seeming to care that my dad was sitting right there. He rested his hand on my abdomen. "I haven't got much to offer, but I can give you this," he said.

A warmth spread from his fingers into my abdomen and I gasped as my muscles began twitching from the warmth. I felt the soreness and stretched feeling ease and a strange rhythmic contraction in my uterus as the abused muscles healed under Jack's gentle ministration.

His eyelids fluttered closed, the long lashes sweeping the heavy shadows under his eyes and he swayed, falling into my lap. "Get Janet," I told my Dad quietly, trying to hide the panic clawing at me. He was going Ancient again ... God; how many times could this man be put through this without it finally killing him?

I put a gentle hand to Jack's neck, noting that the pulse was strong and steady - if a little slower than normal. "God, sir - you have to fight this." I was calling him 'sir' _now_?

His eyes opened, showing their normal brown, and he smiled weakly. "Hey, you know me, Carter - I'm a stubborn son of a bitch, right?"

I gave a reluctant laugh. "Yes, sir," I replied, helping him into a sitting position.

Janet came in, armed with her stethoscope and ubiquitous penlight. "Doc ...," Jack warned her as she flashed the light in his eyes. "I'm goin' Ancient again - you know _exactly_ what's gonna happen!"

Janet squared her tiny shoulders. "Yes, sir," she replied softly, clicking off the penlight. "How are you feeling?"

"Bit crappy," Jack muttered, "and my cozars are hurting. I could've sworn Bocce had healed 'em." He looked at us. "What?"

"You said cozars," my dad pointed out.

"I did not," Jack argued.

"You did," Dad said firmly.

"Did not."

"Did."

Before they could get into a Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill-patented moment of lunacy, I intervened. "Jack ... you did," I said.

He sat up and looked deep into my eyes. "Damn," he mumbled, trusting my word. "Seems to be happening faster than last time."

I nodded my head. "Possibly because your brain wasn't returned to normal," I said thoughtfully, determined not to cry. How could Thor have done this to us? I thought he was looking out after the people of Earth! I took a deep breath. "Dad ... Janet ... I want to talk to Jack alone," I added.

"Sure, Sammie," Dad said. He got up and clasped mine and Jack's shoulders. "For what it's worth, Jack; Selmak and I are grateful to you," he added.

"Thanks, Jacob," Jack said. "Means a lot."

"Call if you need me," Janet said, appearing to have forgotten her own troubles in dealing with this latest body blow.

They left the living room and I sighed, turning back to the man I loved. "Sir ... _Jack_ ... Based on what happened the last two times, we've got a couple more days before your behavior starts changing. Jack - before that happens, I want us to ... you know ... make love." I closed my eyes against the tears that threatened. "I don't want to lose you without knowing how great we could be together."

Jack breathed in deeply and leaned his forehead against mine. "I want it too," he said huskily. He put a finger under my chin, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "I'm sorry, Sam," he added. "But you understand why I couldn't have told you sooner?"

I did. If the Trust had found out, they would've found a way to experiment on him. After all, he'd been host to a Tok'ra and had gone Ancient twice and survived. Add to that the fact that he'd pissed them off on many occasions - going right back to when they'd been part of the NID and had tried to imprison the Tollan - and he was a prime target for them.

"I do," I assured him. I linked his fingers with mine and we headed out to the porch swing. We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the world go by. "I'm glad you finally managed to get me here," I told the man I loved. "It really _is_ beautiful."

"Land of clear blue waters, home of the loon, yeah sure ya betcha, snookums!" he replied with a wry grin. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall of the cabin with a weary sigh.

I looked at him thoughtfully, memorizing all the planes and angles of his face. One of his eyes popped open. "What?" he asked.

"Just thinking," I said.

He snorted softly. "Like you ever stop," he criticized affectionately. "So ... whatcha thinking about?"

"Jack; I know you've got a bachelor's ... at least." He grunted an affirmative, and that emboldened me to continue. "What was it in?"

"Ah ...". He grumbled and shifted slightly in the swing. I prodded him in the side with a bony forefinger. "Uh ... Economics," he said hurriedly.

"_What_?" This from the man who came to me every year for help with his 1040 returns and his 401K? The sneaky son of a bitch. "Okay ... and what else?" I just knew he was hiding something else from the world.

"And what?" he said. "You and Daniel are the geniuses round here, not me." He frowned. "Or is that genii?"

"You know; I never bought the 'dumb Colonel' act," I retorted. "What makes you think I'll buy the dumb General one?"

The shifting had become pronounced by now. "Mastersinquantummechanics," he blurted out all in one word.

Unfortunately for him, I could understand gabble. My jaw dropped - until that moment, I'd always thought that was an over-used metaphor. But no ... my mouth literally gaped open. General Jack "Don't talk to me about science" O'Neill had a Masters degree in quantum mechanics. The guy who referred to the Ancient time ship as a 'nice ride'.

I recalled our preparations for the mission that ended up propelling us back to 1969. I'd been up in the control room, recalibrating the Stargate to account for the fact that we would be passing very close to the sun. The Colonel looked up and shouted, "Carter?"

I sighed, then looked up from my calculations and leaned into the microphone. "Almost there, sir. This time of year, the direct line between P2X-555 and the Earth takes us within 70,000 miles of the sun. I have to update the computer's drift calculation to include gravitational space/time warping."

The Colonel paused for a micro-second, then said: "We know that. Let's go!"

At the time, I'd just thought he was being his usual smart ass self. Especially when we were discussing ways out of our containment cell in 1969 Cheyenne Mountain. Daniel had suggested that we could go back before we left and it wouldn't happen.

Teal'c and I turned to stare at him. "Well, think about it," he pointed out. We're the first people in human history to go back in time ... well, for all we know. If we could figure out how to do this again, just think of what we could do. We could actually visit Babylon, we could ... we could ... we could see the Great Wall of China being built."

Teal'c put in his five cents' worth. "Or prevent regrettable events from your history from ever occurring."

"No! That's exactly what we can't do," I exclaimed, alarmed.

"Why not?" the Colonel asked.

"Because of the grandfather paradox." He looked blank and I explained: "If you went back fifty years and murdered your own grandfather, your own father would never have been born."

Now, though, I realized that he _had_ actually understood the paradox - a basic tenet of quantum mechanics - and about gravitational space-time warping. He had in fact been in a better position than me to calculate the necessary calibrations. I poked him in the shoulder. "So, why the dumb act all these years?" I asked sternly.

He shrugged the abused shoulder with a guilty smirk. "Hey, if I gave you the clueless look, you'd have to think about it to put it in simple terms. Then you'd pull a brilliant Carter solution out of your ... uh ... head."

I just _knew_ he'd been about to say 'butt', not 'head'. I thought about what he'd said, and realized it had been one of the many ways he'd helped me over the years. I'd become a better soldier and a better scientist, thanks to him. But I wished he hadn't felt the need to hide his intelligence to do so. "I wish I'd known sooner," I said softly.

A thought struck me. "Hey! So ... what was with that comment about you having a problem with scientists when we first met?"

He gave another slightly guilty grin. "You pissed me off," he said simply. "Marched in there, all piss and vinegar and ready to take on the world. Read our reports and thought you were prepared for going through the 'gate."

"Ah." I blushed at how arrogant I'd been.

"But you were cute, too," he added.

Cute? Could a five nine USAF officer with Advanced LevelThree hand to hand be described as cute? Then again, I thought that a certain six three USAF officer with Advanced Level_Four_ hand to hand was cute, so probably yes.

"You're completely off your head," I commented, the smile that hovered on my lips taking the sting out of my words.

"Yeah, but you love me, Carter," he returned confidently.

Damn the man. I did, too. I slid my hand round to the nape of his neck. "Shut up, _General_," I ordered, pressing my lips to his. It occurred to me that this was probably the first time a Brigadier General had been told to shut up by a Lieutenant Colonel, then dismissed the weird thought in favor of the pleasure of kissing Jack.

He rested his palm against my cheek as he deepened the kiss and I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning heavily against him. God; this man was one deadly kisser! My blood heated at the thought of what _other_ talents he might have in this area, and I slid a hand inside his tee shirt to caress the lean muscles of his abdomen.

I felt those muscles tense, then his chest quivered as he expelled a short laugh. "Uh ... Sam? The body's willing, but the mind knows we're outside," he said.

I snorted. "Like you've never had sex outdoors before!" I said. What the hell had happened to the 'edit' button in my mind?

He slid a wicked hand along my thigh and laughed softly. "Don't toy with me, Colonel Sex Kitten," he taunted. "Our first time together will be in a warm soft bed; it'll be long, slow, passionate and loving."

Colonel Sex Kitten? My eyes widened and I breathed in heavily. "That sounds ... nice," I said huskily, cursing myself for the lame word. Nice? It sounded like heaven.

* * *

Later that day

I started as another thunderclap rattled around the cabin, then started again when the telephone pealed out. With everything that had happened the last few weeks, my equilibrium had become almost non-existent.

I picked up the receiver. "Hello?" I said, wincing at the squealing down the line. Reception was completely shot to hell.

"Sam; it's Janet," my best friend said. "General Carter, Cassie and I aren't brave enough to try to get back to the cabin tonight - some of the roads are washed out. So we've got rooms in St. Paul. I ..." - her voice faded out, then came back - "worry about us."

"Thanks for calling, Jan," I replied. The line went dead as another clap of thunder echoed around the cabin, then I heard a muffled curse come from the living room.

I put down the phone and wandered in the direction of the curse. Jack O'Neill had an impressive array of curses - some doubtless garnered from his Special Ops days - and I wondered mildly what had honked him off this time.

He looked up from behind the television set, his eyes wild and his hair even wilder. "TV's out," he said, pouting - he was actually pouting! "And I wanted to watch my new Simpsons DVD."

I shook my head with a small fond smile - he was such a child at times. "So watch it on the set in my room," I said patiently.

"D'oh!" he mumbled. "Guess I shoulda thought of that, huh?" He got up and stretched, then patted my butt in a friendly manner. "Wanna join me?"

"I'll pass," I said lightly. "Not a big Simpsons fan, sir."

He gasped theatrically. "Sacrilege, Carter!" He grabbed my hand. "Time to educate you in the finer things of life!" He dragged a giggling Lieutenant Colonel all the way to his guest bedroom. Not exactly the way I'd pictured him taking me to a bedroom, but it'd have to do for now.

He dumped me unceremoniously onto the bed, then switched on the TV. "Watch and learn, Carter," he ordered.

* * *

The credits rolled to an end and I leaned back against the headboard. "Actually, that _was_ pretty funny," I admitted. I doubted I'd ever be as nuts about the show as Jack was, but some of its humor was sly and sharp - much like Jack. I could easily watch the show more often. 

I didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking. "Cool," he said simply.

The door opened and Daniel and Teal'c peered in. "Uhh ... we interrupting something, guys?" Daniel asked.

I cursed my fair skin for the blush that immediately appeared. We hadn't even been _doing_ anything, for God's sake! Too many years of having to hide my attraction to this man had made me cautious to the point of paranoia.

"Not a thing, Daniel," Jack said. "TV in the living room's blown, so Sam said I could watch my _favorite_ show on hers."

"That is unfortunate, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I have rented Star Wars Episode II and am keen to see it before I have to return it."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" I said. I really _had_ spent too much time with Jack O'Neill. "Get in here!" Although we lived sci-fi, I had to admit to a sneaking interest in science fiction movies; even if it was only to see how much they were actually getting wrong.

"I brought ice cream," Daniel said hurriedly when Jack scowled. The man hated science fiction.

That was the magic word. The scowl melted away. "Sweeeeet," Jack said. "Okay; put the movie on, T!"

Teal'c sat down on my left, Jack was at my right and Daniel lay at the foot of the bed like an over-sized puppy. I giggled suddenly.

"What?" Jack eyed me curiously as he passed me a pot of Phish Food and dug into his own pot of French Vanilla.

"Just thinking - SG-1 has to be the strangest unit on the base," I said. "Can you imagine ... SG-3 for instance clambering into bed together to stuff themselves with ice cream and watch Star Wars?"

His eyes widened. "Thanks for sharing, Carter!" he complained with a grin. "Christ ... Reynolds and his jarheads in bed together!" He shifted slightly. "Besides, I haven't been in SG-1 for nearly a year now."

Technically, I guess he hadn't, but we still had the great team dynamic forged by seven years of joy, sadness, triumph and tragedy. "You'll always be part of SG-1, Jack," I told him softly.

He gave me a broad smile. "For a kick-ass USAF Colonel, you're pretty sweet, Carter," he said cheerfully.

"Be quiet," Teal'c said sternly, then muttered something under his breath in Goa'uld. I couldn't catch what it was, but it sounded derogatory.

"Sorry," Jack said meekly, stretching out his long legs and kicking Daniel in the ribs.

"Jack!" the linguist yelped, rolling off of the bed in a smooth maneuver he couldn't have performed a few years ago. "Watch where you're sticking those great boats!" He got back on the bed, but kept out of the way of Jack's feet.

Teal'c shook his head, then slapped at Jack's hand, which was heading toward his tub of Cookie Dough. "Tauri!" he muttered disgustedly.

I couldn't help but agree. "We are so weird," I mumbled as I inhaled my ice cream.

* * *

Later that evening

The movie had ended about a half hour earlier, and Teal'c and Daniel had gone off to their own rooms, leaving Jack and I curled up together on my bed. Quite when we'd gone from sitting up to lying spooned I didn't know, but I wasn't about to fight it. He felt ... _right_ against me, in a way that Pete and Jonas never had.

I turned in his embrace and put a hand to his face. "Jack," I said softly, determined not to blush, "I want you."

He gave me a cheeky grin. "Well, far be it for me to deny you!" he said.

I returned the grin. "Egomaniac," I accused him.

"Always," he retorted.

He appeared to have tired of the banter, because he sat up, pulled me tightly against him and began to kiss me hotly and passionately. His long fingers molded to the curves and plains of my body, taking care to memorize each one.

Passion built and I tugged his tee shirt over his head, feasting my eyes on that very nice torso. "_Damn_," I muttered softly. "You are one sexy man, Jack O'Neill."

He chuckled, ignoring the compliment. "Hey, this is a little one-sided, dontcha think, Carter?" he complained. He placed his long strong fingers on my thighs, hitching my dress upward, then bent his head to take my lips in a swift hard kiss. "I love you, Sam," he muttered.

I returned the kiss as passionately as I knew how, then slid my hands down his chest, reveling in the fact that I could now legitimately ogle him. Not like those quick guilty - yet pleasurable - moments on missions. The concept of watching my CO's six had taken on a certain smutty quality once I'd been assigned to SG-1.

He tugged at my hips, bringing them to meet his own, and slid his hands round to my butt, before kissing my neck.

My eyes rolled back in my head. Hot damn; the man was talented! But this was getting a bit one-sided. I dipped my head and nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his smell. I sucked gently on the strong tendon at the side of his neck - mmmm, he tasted good, too!

"Sam!" he gasped when I sucked a little too firmly.

I brushed at the darkening mark on his neck with a guilty grin. "Whoops," I muttered. It had been a long time since I'd given anyone a hickey. I kissed the wound softly. "It's actually pretty cool," I added.

"Christ; how _old_ are you?" he laughed.

At this moment, I wondered that myself. On the slippery slope to forty, and certainly no virgin, yet I was pleased at the purple mark I'd left on Jack's neck. And all of a sudden, I was struck by the urge to tickle him.

I walked my fingers down his chest, and he flinched when I brushed my fingers over his ribcage. "Ticklish, huh?" I asked with a laugh, repeating the movement.

He grabbed my hands. "Geez, Sam; ya tryin' to kill me or something?" he quipped.

I stared at him incredulously for a moment.

Seconds ago, this man had been kissing me. Passionately. Desperately.

Seconds ago, this man had been pulling on my hips in an effort to get my body closer to his.

Seconds ago, this man had made me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. The galaxy. The universe.

The son of a bitch. Making jokes about his own _death_?

I hit him.

I didn't slap him. I'd been an Air Force officer most of my adult life. I punched him.

Hard.

He must've been more worn out from the changes in his body and mind than he'd let on. My punch caused him to sway unsteadily. The man that sparred with Teal'c on a regular basis was swaying.

He was going to fall. I knew it in the split second before it happened. At the last moment he reached out and grabbed my arm, trying to steady himself.

I tried to wrench it out of his grip, and ended up toppling to the bed with him, landing on top of him. Even mad at him, I felt a tingle of pleasure at the close contact. How could one man drive me so insane?

We regarded one another for a long moment, chests heaving against each other, before I dropped my head guiltily. Jack's lower lip was bleeding. "You hit me," he said indignantly. "What the hell's the _matter_ with you?"

I swallowed. I was lying on top of Jack O'Neill, my lips once more on his neck. The sensation wasn't exactly conducive to coherent thought. So I kissed him again, thrusting my tongue into his mouth as soon as he opened it, tasting blood from his lip.

I pulled his lip between my teeth, feeling his moan of mingled pain and pleasure, rather than hearing it.

Jack soon seemed to forget about his bleeding lip, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, exploring.

I moaned softly as his hands began to journey down my back toward my butt, cupping it and pulling me close to him.

I wriggled against him, giggling when I heard him growl low in his throat. I couldn't quite work out how I'd gone from explosive anger to ... this. But I liked it.

I'd always known he'd be good at this, I mused as he deftly unsnapped my bra. With one hand. Even I sometimes had trouble with this bra. The man had skills.

Okay, the talking thing he was not so good at.

But _this_ ... this, he was good at. Especially when his hands were doing ... _that_ and his lips were ...

And I think we'll leave it there.

* * *

Several hours later, we lay together in a post-coital glow that was nonetheless bitter-sweet. After many years of waiting and wanting, this could have been a huge anti-climax - no pun intended! Instead, we fit together perfectly, his sure touch doing amazing things to me. He was tender and passionate, hard and soft, sweet and forceful - a bucket-load of contradictions all wrapped up in one brown-eyed, gray-haired, six three USAF General. 

I sat up and put a hand to his cheek, drawing him into a powerful kiss. "That was amazing," I said when we separated.

"Yeah," he agreed, stroking the bare flesh of my shoulder with a callused palm.

"I can't believe we didn't do this before," I muttered. Wow; if I'd known he was so talented, I would've screwed the regs a long time ago.

Nah; I just would've transferred out of his command.

"Yes, well ... let's not dwell," he said, then he smiled. "Hey! The knees have stopped hurting! Mind-blowing sex with Carter must be the cure-all."

I giggled at the silly comment, although part of me was flattered. He was a good deal older than me, and much more experienced. He was such a sexy, sensual man - I couldn't believe he thought I was mind-blowing. But I could live with it.

I slid my hands down his chest to rest on his thighs. Long and lean - yet powerful, like the rest of his body - I enjoyed the freedom of being able to touch them. I skimmed down his legs to touch his slightly swollen left knee; evidently the effects of Baal's sarcophagus were temporary. The years of abuse since the healing had obviously set off the problem once again.

"Great legs," I commented, massaging the tender joint carefully.

"Now I'm blushing," he said faintly, his eyes closing under my gentle ministrations. "You don't have to, Sam," he added.

"It's okay, Jack," I reassured him, my strong fingers now massaging his calves. "I want to." He was always so busy taking care of everyone else, it probably never occurred to people that sometimes the tough Brigadier General needed a little TLC too.

He sat up and looked at me. "You hit me," he said.

I sighed. "You made me angry," I replied, determined that I wasn't going to apologize. I wasn't known for losing my temper - had always been fairly self-controlled - but when it _did_ happen, look out! "Making stupid jokes about what's going to happen."

"Sam ... that's who I am," he said with a yawn. "You've known me for years - you should know that by now." He paused, then offered me a crooked grin, his brown eyes soft with affection. "Guess my timing could've been better, huh?"

I shook my head. Damn those velvety eyes of his. Fighting with him now would be like swatting a puppy unjustly. "I know," I told him, relinquishing his legs as a yawn ripped through me. I'd have to ask Janet one day why yawning was so infectious. "Let's sleep for a while," I suggested. "It's been a hard day."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Sure has," he said, brushing a teasing kiss to my collarbone, then leering at me. I giggled at the immature comment, and he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. "Dormata, Sam," he added.

I closed my eyes against the stupid tears, then put my arm around his waist, snuggling into his warm body.

* * *

The next day

I woke up, struggling to breathe. A heavy weight lay on my chest, constricting my lungs. I shifted uncomfortably and opened my eyes.

Then I saw what the weight was.

It was Jack O'Neill's silver head. Resting comfortably on one of my breasts. One of his hands was under his pillow while the other one curved possessively on my hip.

I stroked some unruly hair off his forehead, still a little surprised at how soft it was. "Jack," I said softly.

He lifted his head and squinted at me. "Hey," he said in a gravelly tone. "Nice pillow."

I ... blushed. After everything we'd done last night, he could still make me blush. "Uh ... thanks," I said. I waved my hand out of the window. "Looks like the storm's cleared," I said. "Janet, Cassie and Dad should be back soon."

"Paternas." Jack sat up and shoved a hand through his hair. "Crap. He's gonna kill me."

I chuckled, but wondered what that first word was. "Jack; he likes you, remember?"

"Yeah, but as the guy taking advantage of his little girl?"

"I'm hardly a little girl; I'm a grown woman," I objected.

"I can vouch for that," he said teasingly. "But trust me on this, Sam, all he sees when he looks at you is big blue eyes, skinned knees and pigtails." He gave me a whisper-soft kiss. "I was a dad myself and if I'd had a girl, I'd be just the same." He got off of the bed. "Besides, I respect him too much to rub his nose in this."

I stared at him. He'd never been very good with the words, but now and then he could come up with a speech that would rival Daniel at his most diplomatic. "Who knew you could be so charming?" I teased lightly.

He chuckled. "Charm of the Irish, me dear," he returned in an awful brogue. "Charm of the Irish."

I threw a pillow at his head. "You're about as Irish as a croissant, O'Neill."

He grinned, then a white light appeared and whisked him away. "_Thor_!" I muttered. The little guy's timing was impeccable. Then I felt the white light move over me and grabbed the sheet.

* * *

I appeared on an Asgard ship naked as the day I was born and quickly wrapped the sheet around my body. 

"Greetings, Major Carter," a gentle Asgard voice said.

I turned and saw the geneticist Heimdall. "Hey," I said lamely, not bothering to correct her. "Where's General O'Neill?"

The Asgard tilted her head slightly, a flash of mischief on her face. "You mean you cannot hear him from here?" she said. "He is currently shouting at Thor."

I pricked up my ears and could indeed hear Jack's peeved tones. "Take me to him, please," I said, not wanting Jack to do something he might later regret. Jack bore grudges. He bore them for a long time. And I knew that he was going to have trouble forgiving Thor.

"Of course." Heimdall moved a crystal and we transported onto the bridge where Jack - dressed in a strange white outfit; Asgard scrubs, maybe? - was standing in mulish silence, fists balled, ignoring the little Asgard near him.

"Dad?" I said.

"Hey, Sam," my dad replied. "Uh ... nice outfit," he teased.

I blushed and tugged tightly at the sheet. "Thanks," I said.

He turned to Jack. "Jack; get your head out of your ass and quit sulking."

"I don't sulk," Jack snapped.

"You do," Dad insisted. "Never met a surlier officer in my life."

Jack just shrugged, then folded downward to lean up against one of the bulkheads. He looked over at me. "Nice outfit, Carter," he said.

I was beginning to wonder if there was something to the thing that girls fell for guys who reminded them of their father. "Shut up," I said mildly, then turned to Thor. "Can you help him?"

"I cannot, Colonel Carter," Thor said, "but Heimdall can. She is a much more skilled scientist than I am."

Jack looked at the two Asgard suspiciously. "You can get this crap outta my head?"

"No," Heimdall said bluntly, "but we can teach you how to control it, rather than it control you."

"Way to beat around the bush," Jack grumbled.

If Heimdall had been human, I'm sure she would have rolled her eyes. "You are a very bad patient, General O'Neill," she said. "Nevertheless, I wish to help you. Will you accept, or would you rather ... sulk?"

I leapt in before Jack could say something else to piss off the little being. "Does that mean he won't die?" I said.

"Die?" The geneticist shook her head. "No, Major ... Colonel Carter; he will not die." She turned back to Jack. "You will not die. You are advanced genetically for your kind, and a goddamn stubborn SOB. That is a good combination."

Jack expelled a short huff of laughter. "Nice language!" he taunted, then turned to my dad. "Jake; whatcha been teaching these guys?"

Heimdall took Jack's chin in her tiny hand. "After our last encounter, I decided to learn some of the more ... colorful aspects of your language to facilitate a better working relationship." The huge black eyes twinkled. "You learned our language; why could we not learn yours?"

He could speak Asgard? Jack looked over at me and did that cute little 'busted' expression he usually wore when I caught him fiddling with one of my 'doohickeys'.

Jack shrugged. "Fair enough," he conceded. "Okay; let's do this!"

"O'Neill; are you sure?" Thor said. "It is a long tedious process, and you are not the most ... patient of individuals."

Delicately put, I thought.

"The only other choice is death, and that's not acceptable," Jack said. "I've got too much to live for now." He sent a tender smile my way. "Ego amato, Sam," he added.

"What?" I was fogged.

"O'Neill told you that he loves you, Colonel Carter," Thor translated.

Ah.

Jack got up, ignoring my dad's raised eyebrows and took my hand in his. "Pretty soon, I won't be your CO any more," he said, ignoring the fact that we'd pretty literally screwed the regs last night. "So," he continued, "will you marry me?"

I gaped at the man. "Wow; I did _not_ see that coming!" I muttered. I fell into a brown study. I loved him, and we were pretty damn good together - okay; Sierra Hotel - but it had only been a few weeks since I'd been planning to marry someone else. Wasn't it a bit soon?

"Sam?" Jack squeezed my hand. "Kinda out on a limb here!"

"Sammie; for once, follow your heart, not your head," Dad said. He tapped my shoulder. "I pretty much resigned myself years ago to having this guy as my son in law - and Selmak likes him too."

"See?" Jack said. "Even the snake likes me!"

I chuckled at that, knowing that Selmak was likely spouting off some Tok'ra profanities in my dad's head right now. I looked into Jack's deep brown eyes. "Then, yes," I said. "I'll marry you. But I want to do it before you head off to Pegasus."

I found myself wrapped in a massive Jack O'Neill hug, and he ducked his head into my neck in that familiar mannerism. He always hugged people the same way regardless of height differences - it had to be murder on his neck. It was nice to know that although things were going to change, some things would always be the same. "Ego amato," he reiterated, kissing the pulse point under my ear softly.

I shivered. "I love you, too," I said.

"Break it up, Airmen!" my dad said, pulling Jack off of me to shake his hand.

"Oy!" Jack muttered when I giggled. "You know the rules, Carter - no giggling!"

"Yes, _sir_," I teased.


End file.
